Chapter 153 The Abduction
Darius moved through the darkened corridors with careful steps, his hand steady on the stretcher pole while two trusted guards carried the other end. Alberto lay motionless beneath the thin blanket, chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of deep sleep induced by the mild sedative slipped into his evening tea. The remembrance ceremony had ended only an hour earlier, the pack still scattered in small groups mourning and talking in hushed voices, which made the timing perfect for the plan. No one paid much attention to a small group slipping away from the main hall toward the western exit.
One of the guards, a young man named Tobin, glanced at Darius. “He’s still out, right? The dose was measured exactly?”
Darius kept his eyes forward. “He’s out. Breathing steady. Pulse normal. He won’t wake until we’re clear of the territory which buys us time.”
The second guard, older and quieter, named Renn, adjusted his grip on the pole. “And the route? We’re taking the back trail past the old mill?”
“Yes,” Darius answered. “Avoids the main paths. Fewer eyes. Fewer questions.”
They reached the western gate. A single guard stood watch, one of Darius’s men. He nodded once and swung the small side door open without a word. The night air rushed in, cool and sharp.
“Safe journey,” the gate guard whispered.
Darius gave a curt nod and stepped through first. The stretcher followed. The trail narrowed almost immediately, forcing them to walk single file. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in thin silver threads, just enough to keep them from stumbling.
Tobin spoke again after a few minutes of silence. “Alpha Fernando will be furious when the commotion stops and finds Alberto gone.”
“He won't be pissed as he knocked Alberto out himself and handed him over to me,” Darius said. “And as for Alberto waking up, by then we’ll be at the safe house. He’ll understand when we explain it was necessary.”
Renn grunted. “Necessary or not, he’ll want someone’s head for it. Yours, probably.”
Darius’s mouth tightened. “If it keeps Alberto alive and out of Rowan’s hands, I’ll take the blame. Alberto can have my head after we’re sure the threat is gone.”
Tobin looked back at the sleeping figure on the stretcher. “He looks peaceful. Doesn’t even know what we’re doing.”
“That’s the point,” Darius said. “If he knew, he’d fight us every step. He’d insist on staying, on facing Rowan himself. He’s brave. Too brave sometimes. We can’t let that bravery get him killed.”
Renn shifted the pole to his other shoulder. “You really think Rowan wants him dead?”
“I think Rowan wants him controlled,” Darius answered. “And control means breaking the seal on his memories. If that happens before we’re ready, the prophecy takes over. Alberto becomes the weapon Rowan needs. Or worse, the weapon the Lycan king wants. Either way, he loses himself. We don’t let that happen.”
Tobin nodded slowly. “Still feels wrong. Drugging your own Luna.”
Darius’s voice hardened. “Wrong would be letting him walk into a trap he can’t see coming. This is protection. Not betrayal.”
They continued in silence for another ten minutes. The trail widened slightly, allowing them to walk two abreast again. The safe house was still an hour away if they kept this pace.
Suddenly Renn froze. “Wait. Did you hear that?”
Darius stopped, ears straining. A faint rustle came from the trees to their left, then another from the right. Too deliberate to be wind or animals.
“Guards,” Darius said quietly. “Form up. Protect the stretcher.”
Tobin and Renn shifted so the stretcher was between them and Darius, weapons drawn.
Figures stepped out from the trees six, then eight, then ten. All masked, cloaks dark, blades glinting in the moonlight.
One of them spoke, voice muffled but clear. “Hand over the Enigma. No one needs to die tonight.”
Darius drew his dagger. “You’re not taking him.”
The masked leader tilted his head. “Then you die.”
They moved as one.
Tobin met the first attacker with a clash of steel. Renn spun to cover the rear, but two more closed in from the side. Darius fought like a man possessed, blade flashing, but the numbers were against them.
A masked wolf lunged at Darius from behind. Darius twisted, blocked, but another blade caught his arm. He hissed in pain, blood blooming dark on his sleeve.
Tobin shouted, “Sir—!”
A dart whistled through the air. It struck Tobin’s neck. He gasped, eyes wide, then dropped to his knees. The stretcher tilted dangerously. Renn tried to steady it, but a second dart hit his shoulder. He staggered, then fell.
Darius roared and charged the nearest attacker, driving his dagger into the man’s side. The masked wolf grunted and collapsed. But before Darius could turn, three more closed in. A heavy fist struck his temple. Stars burst behind his eyes. He swung blindly, caught one in the jaw, but another arm wrapped around his throat from behind.
He struggled, kicking, clawing, but a sharp prick stabbed his neck. Green liquid burned through his veins.
His vision blurred. His limbs grew heavy.
“No…” he managed, voice slurring. “Don’t… touch him…”
The last thing he saw was masked figures lifting the stretcher, Alberto still sleeping peacefully beneath the blanket.
Then darkness took him.
The masked men moved quickly. Two carried the stretcher in one direction, heading deeper into the forest along a hidden trail. The others dragged Darius and the unconscious guards in the opposite direction, toward a waiting wagon concealed among the trees.
One of them spoke to the leader. “We have him. Both of them.”
The leader nodded. “Good. Take the alpha to the holding site. The boy goes to the master. Move fast. The pack will notice they’re missing soon.”
The group split. The stretcher bearers vanished into the night with Alberto. The others loaded Darius and the guards into the wagon and drove off in the opposite direction.
Silence returned to the trail.
Only the wind moved through the leaves.