Chapter 118

**Ashton’s POV**

The cold wind bit at my face as I lifted the telescope, peering through it from the watchtower that overlooked the far side of the pack’s territory. The terrain stretched below us—winding roads, crumbling buildings, the dense tree line beyond. Everything was still, quiet in the dying light of the afternoon. But that wouldn’t last.

Hunt stood beside me, shifting uneasily as we both focused on the distant plume of dust rising from the forest road. A train of vehicles snaked its way toward the heart of the pack’s land, kicking up dirt in their wake.

“They’re here,” I muttered, lowering the scope just long enough to exchange a glance with Hunt. His expression was tight, jaw clenched.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

I lifted the scope again, tracking the convoy as it neared the clearing where the pack had once gathered for meetings and celebrations. Now, it would be the stage for something far darker.

The first vehicle rolled in, coming to a stop just before the platform. More followed, forming a rough semi-circle, boxing in the space as if to keep everyone inside from escaping.

And then I saw him.

Sawyer.

He was yanked from the lead car, his body dropping hard onto the dirt before rough hands dragged him upright. Even from here, I could see the state he was in.

“Shit,” I muttered.

Hunt exhaled sharply beside me. “He’s barely standing.”

He was right.

Sawyer looked like he had already been through hell. His clothes were shredded, his skin caked in dirt and streaked with blood. He staggered, legs barely cooperating as they pulled him toward the platform. He must have fallen at least a dozen times on the journey here, his body scraped raw from being dragged.

But his eyes…

Even through the scope, I could see the fire still burning in them. Even on his knees, broken and bleeding, he refused to submit.

That was something Jacob would never understand.

The next car door opened.

Millie was hauled out, clutching a small bundle to her chest—Elsie.

Hunt inhaled sharply beside me. “He brought the kid?” His voice was tight with disbelief.

I lowered the scope, exhaling slowly before raising it again.

Jacob had crossed every line imaginable, but this?

Bringing a child into this war?

This was personal.

Millie stumbled as they forced her forward, her arms wrapped so tightly around the baby it was as if she thought she could shield her from everything happening around them.

The scene unfolded like a twisted play.

Jacob strode out of one of the newly arrived cars, moving with that signature arrogance of his. He stretched, breathing in the air like a man who thought he had already won.

The bastard had no idea what was waiting for him.

His men began spreading out, moving to nearby buildings—searching, raiding. They were looking for Sawyer’s pack members. Trying to round them up, just as we had expected.

Only they wouldn’t find who they were looking for.

I almost smirked. Go ahead, Jacob. Keep rounding them up.

The wolves he thought he was capturing, thought he was cornering, weren’t Sawyer’s pack. They were mine.

Hidden among them, blending in, waiting for the moment to strike.

Hunt shifted again beside me, his hands gripping the edge of the watchtower railing. I knew what he was feeling—I felt it too. The need to move. To act.

But not yet.

Then came the part that nearly made Hunt lunge forward.

Jacob’s men tied a length of rope around Sawyer’s wrists—then secured it to the back of one of the vehicles.

My stomach turned.

Millie was forced inside, the baby still clutched in her arms. And then the car started moving.

Slowly at first.

Then faster.

Sawyer hit the ground hard, his body jerking as he struggled to keep up. His knees buckled, his legs scraped against the dirt as the vehicle picked up speed. Every few feet, he stumbled, crashing forward onto the ground before the rope yanked him back into motion.

Hunt let out a curse, his hands clenching into fists. “We have to move. Now.”

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay composed. Losing control wouldn’t help us. We had planned for this moment. We had prepared.

It still didn’t make it any easier to watch.

Sawyer’s body was dragged across the ground, his head lolling, his limbs barely responding. The rogues laughed, jeering as they watched him struggle.

Jacob was enjoying every second of it.

That was his mistake.

My fingers twitched at my side before I lifted a hand to my temple, reaching through the bond that connected me to my warriors.

Be ready.

The link stretched, sending my command rippling through the network. A silent call. A shift in the air.

And I felt them respond.

Scattered throughout the pack, hidden in plain sight, my warriors stiffened, bracing themselves. They had been waiting for this. They knew what was coming.

And they were ready.

Hunt was breathing hard beside me, his shoulders tight with restraint. “Ashton…”

I lowered the scope, my eyes locked onto the chaos below.

Jacob thought he was in control.

But he was standing on a battlefield he didn’t even realize existed.

I clenched my jaw.

The rope snapped taut again as the vehicle jerked forward, dragging Sawyer’s body through the dirt. He barely had the strength to lift his head now. Blood streaked his face, his shirt hung in tatters, and the ground behind him was smeared dark from where his body had been scraping against it.

Jacob stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest, watching with an expression of pure satisfaction.

The bastard was reveling in it.

I ground my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I wasn’t a stranger to violence. I’d seen men tortured, torn apart, left to die. I’d done worse myself when the situation called for it. But this?

This was something else.

Jacob wasn’t just making an example of Sawyer. He was enjoying every second of his suffering.

Hunt took a sharp breath beside me. “He’s going to kill him before we can even make our move.”

“No, he won’t.” My voice was steady, but inside, I was barely keeping my composure in check. “Jacob wants to humiliate him first. Wants the pack to see him broken before he finishes him off.”

Hunt exhaled sharply, his hands gripping the railing of the watchtower so tightly his knuckles turned white. “And we’re just supposed to watch?”

Not for much longer.

I lifted the scope again, scanning the pack grounds. Jacob’s men were working fast, kicking down doors, pulling people from buildings, forcing them toward the center of the clearing.

But I knew exactly who they were capturing.

As they shoved their prisoners forward, I started picking them out—familiar faces in the crowd. These weren’t scared civilians. They weren’t pack members cowering in fear.

They were my men.

And every single one of them was waiting.

The realisation hadn’t dawned on Jacob yet. He was too arrogant to suspect anything was wrong. He thought the pack had already surrendered. That no one was left to fight back.

He thought he had won.

But he hadn’t counted on me.

A flicker of movement caught my attention near the platform. Millie was still cradling Elsie, her body curled protectively around the baby as she sobbed, pleading with Jacob’s men. She was breaking apart right in front of them, and they were laughing.

I felt the bond flare to life again, my warriors waiting for my word.

Waiting for the moment.

I tightened my grip on the scope, watching as Sawyer was finally unhooked from the back of the car. He collapsed onto the dirt, his body unmoving for a long moment. My heart pounded as I waited, but then—slowly—he shifted.

His hands curled into fists.

He wasn’t done yet.

I exhaled slowly, lowering the scope. My pulse was a steady, controlled rhythm. The time for patience was almost over.

I turned to Hunt, who was already looking at me like he was ready to rip Jacob’s throat out himself.

I gave him a single nod.

“Tell the men—” My voice was calm, but my blood was humming with anticipation.

“We strike now.”

“This is where he loses.”