Chapter 305: To Add Insult To Injury

Before Tristan could dial, his phone lit up with Varian's name. He answered immediately, putting it on speaker.

"Alpha, we're under attack!" Varian's voice came through the line, nearly drowned by the unmistakable sounds of combat in the background. "An enemy pack breached the northern border twenty minutes ago. They're moving toward Moon Sanctuary!"

Tristan's face went completely still, the kind of stillness that precedes a storm. "How many?"

"At least fifty warriors. Well-organized. They knew exactly when our patrols would change." A crash punctuated Varian's words, followed by growls and shouts. "We need you here, Alpha!"

Tristan's eyes met mine, and I saw the impossible choice tearing him apart. Our children, kidnapped and in danger. His pack, under attack and needing their Alpha.

"This isn't a coincidence," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "They planned this—the fight at the sports day, the hospital, all of it. They knew taking the children would distract us, make us vulnerable."

Tristan ended the call with Varian, promising to be there soon. His shoulders slumped with the weight of what we both knew had to happen.

"I can't abandon the pack," he said, each word seeming to physically pain him. "But I can't—I won't—leave our children to whatever fate Rylan has planned."

"I'll go after them." The words came out before I could second-guess myself. "You protect the pack."

"Alone?" His jaw tightened. "It's too dangerous. We don't know who's behind this or how many—"

"I have Astrid. I can track them." I stepped closer, placing my hand on his arm. "The pack needs their Alpha. This is the only way."

Tristan's face contorted with indecision, the kind of agony that comes from having to choose between two impossible options. "Once I've secured the pack—"

"You'll find us," I finished for him. "I know."

He pulled me against his chest suddenly, arms wrapping around me with desperate strength. "If you find yourself in danger, call me immediately. I'll come, no matter what's happening with the pack."

I returned his embrace, breathing in his scent one last time. "Be careful. The children can't lose their father."

Tristan pressed something cold and heavy into my palm—a key. "Take the hospital emergency vehicle. It has medical supplies inside. The children might need them when you find them."

The "when," not "if," told me everything about his faith in me.

We separated without another word, each racing toward our separate battles. I watched his car speed away, taillights disappearing into the night, before climbing into the ambulance. The engine roared to life, and I pulled out of the parking lot, following the route the security footage had shown Rylan taking.

An hour later, I still hadn't found any trace of them. The ambulance headlights cut through the darkness as I drove along the outskirts of town, following my instincts more than any real lead. With the children drugged, I couldn't even track their scent.

My phone rang, the sound startling in the quiet cabin. The screen showed an unknown number.

"Hello?" I answered, one hand still on the wheel.

"Lysandra." Rylan's voice, so familiar yet now chilling in its calmness. "I imagine you're quite desperate to see your children."

My fingers tightened around the phone. "What do you want?"

"It's quite simple, really." His tone was conversational, as if we were discussing lunch plans. "I've captured your ex-husband. He came rushing to save the children and walked right into our trap."

"What?" I nearly swerved off the road. "Tristan is at the pack border. There's an attack—"

"The battle ended quickly," Rylan interrupted with a cold laugh. "He was so worried about you and the children that he raced over as soon as it was done. Unfortunately, he's been quite weak lately. Couldn't even shift properly. It made subduing him remarkably easy."

My heart stuttered. "If you've hurt him—"

"Oh, I have," Rylan said pleasantly. "And I'll hurt him more unless you come alone to the abandoned steel mill on the east side of town. Thirty minutes, Lysandra." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Or you'll be finding pieces of him scattered across the territory."

A gut-wrenching scream tore through the phone—Tristan's voice, unmistakable even distorted by pain. The sound ripped through me like a physical wound.

"Don't be late," Rylan added before hanging up.

I pulled the ambulance to the side of the road, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the wheel. Memories flooded my mind—Tristan enduring torture to save my brother.

I won't let him die. I won't let our children suffer. Rylan will pay for this with his life.

With trembling fingers, I sent my location to Alaric, along with one word: "Help." Then I turned off my phone, threw it on the passenger seat, and slammed the accelerator to the floor.

Twenty minutes later, I pushed open the rusted door of the abandoned steel mill. The interior was dimly lit by a few scattered work lights, casting long shadows across broken machinery and crumbling concrete.

My breath caught in my throat at the scene before me.

Tristan lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath him from multiple knife wounds across his torso. His face was paper-white, his breathing rapid and shallow. Even from here, I could see the unnatural pallor that suggested poison.

Orion and Lyra were tied to a metal pillar several yards away, still unconscious but appearing unharmed. Their small chests rose and fell with steady breaths.

I wanted to rush to Tristan, to check his wounds and assure myself he was still alive, but something in the air made me pause. A strange, chemical smell permeated the building.

"Careful," Astrid warned in my mind. "There's some kind of suppressant in the air. I feel weak."

Tristan's head lifted slightly, his gray eyes finding mine. "Lyss," he gasped, each word clearly causing him pain. "Don't... come closer. Wolf suppressant... in the air. You won't be able... to shift."

Before I could respond, a slow clapping echoed through the cavernous space.

"Very good, Alpha." Rylan stepped from the shadows, a bloody knife gleaming in his hand. "Still trying to protect her, even when you can barely move."