Chapter 18 Defending The Pack
Aurelia
I was taking a huge risk. I knew exactly what would happen if anyone caught me.
Alpha Zhayad would never believe I was racing to the eastern ridge to stop Varrick’s scouts from receiving the vial. No one in the pack would.
To them, my afternoon flight would look like one of two things: either I was finally escaping the Onyx Fang territory for good, or worse, I was slipping out to meet my father and hand over more secrets.
Both explanations ended the same way: with me in chains, or worse, with Zhayad’s claws at my throat while the mate bond shattered between us.
I couldn’t risk that. So I did the only thing I could.
I summoned a thin thread of magic. It rose reluctantly inside me, cold, oily, and familiar. It was like stepping into a shadow that remembered my shape.
I pulled it around myself like a second skin, weaving it tight until the illusion snapped into place.
To any eye that passed over me, I would look like one of the pack’s afternoon-shift guards: tall, broad-shouldered, and clad in the standard black tactical gear.
My movements would appear steady, purposeful, and military. But my scent… Damn. My scent was the problem.
I smelled nice as a person, but not my magic. It layered over my natural fragrance like a cheap perfume over sweat, enough to confuse at a distance, but anyone who got too close would catch the wrongness: the faint metallic tang of warlock blood, the bitter edge of forbidden power, and underneath it all, the unmistakable trace of me.
There was no time to perfect it or find a better plan.
I needed to leave the pack house before anyone noticed my absence.
Instead of using the main gates, I went through the wall and appeared outside the pack house.
Wow. I'd done it.
“Going somewhere?” A voice asked from beside me, startling the shit out of me. It was a shifter male I'd never seen before.
“Hun?” I asked, pretending to be genuinely surprised. But inside me, I was going bonkers. Had he seen me step through the wall?
He patted my shoulder, and I inwardly prayed he wouldn't sniff my scent.
“Kale said he would send a replacement to accompany me to the border. You took so long, I nearly went on my own. C'mon, let's go.” He said, popping his knuckles and cracking his neck.
I nodded stiffly and followed him.
This was the guy who would monitor the exchange and ensure it was carried out without hassle. And he thought I was the replacement Kale would send.
“Things would be a lot easier if we just shifted, you know. But we don't want to raise alarm.” The guy murmured, his gait controlled and confident.
“Hmm.” I sounded strange to my own ears, but this guy didn't seem to mind.
Soon, we arrived at the mouth of the woods, and I remembered the last time I was here. It felt like a lifetime ago since I stepped out of the woods with Alpha Zhayad.
Thirty steps into the woods, the guard stopped abruptly.
He turned, one hand pressing to his earpiece, listening to something only he could hear.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes narrowing at me through the shadows. “What’s your name?”
My tongue felt thick, like a wet towel. I opened my mouth, stammered something incoherent, even bit the inside of my cheek in the panic.
I couldn't say one name that sounded believable. Eric sounded British, and Alvin was straight up overconfident.
“Shit. We’ve got an imper—”
I didn’t let him finish.
I thrust my arm forward, palm out, and twisted the air between us like wringing a cloth.
The magic surged out viciously and he dropped to his knees, his hands clawing at his throat, eyes bulging as invisible pressure crushed his windpipe.
He gasped, choked, and wheezed. I didn't like doing this to people at all.
“Go to sleep,” I whispered.
His body went limp, and he toppled backward, hitting the forest floor with a dull thud.
His chest rose and fell in deep, even rhythm, as if he’d simply drifted off mid-shift instead of being forced into unconsciousness.
I exhaled shakily. The glamour shattered around me like cracked glass, I felt the illusion peel away, leaving me exposed in my own skin.
There was no time to mourn the risk. I turned and sprinted the rest of the way toward the border.
The eastern ridge loomed ahead, a jagged scar of shale and pine. It was already evening, but I needed to be alert.
I found the shortest, sturdiest tree just a few feet from the invisible line where Onyx Fang territory ended and no-man’s-land began.
I wasted no time in climbing, my hands scraping bark, my thighs burning from wrapping them around the tree until I wedged myself into a high fork, hidden by thick needles and shadow.
I waited on the tree like a creep, watching my surroundings and keeping my breaths quiet.
I stayed like that for hours, my butt going numb. If I couldn't jiggle my butt after this whole thing, I would never forgive Ravina.
My eyelids started to grow heavy, and I found myself dozing. I drifted off, my cheek pressed to rough bark.
A loud, wet hiss jolted me awake. A thick black snake coiled on the branch inches from my face.
Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air, then snapped back inside as if it had smelled something foul.
My blood, maybe. Or the warlock rot that clung to me like a second curse.
It slithered away, disinterested. I remained perfectly still, waiting patiently even though I was running out of patience.
I fell asleep for the second time, and when I opened my eyes, there was the moon.
As if in cue, voices drifted up from below. They
“Varrick’s scouts are waiting on the other side. We need to cross to reach them,” the female said.
I recognised the sound of her voice, the silver-streaked sentinel Ravina gave the vial.
“Why don’t they come to us?” a male voice grumbled. “We don’t have to risk the burn. Do we even know what’s in that damn vial?”
“Keep your mouth shut and keep walking,” she snapped. “You talk too much for a man.”
“So we’re not going to talk about the impersonator? Kale said—”
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll send you back myself.”
I watched them file beneath my tree, counting quietly. Five shifters in total.
She was in front, four males behind her. They were all tense, with their weapons drawn. So wolves could be scared, too.
They moved with the careful steps of people who knew the border wards could sear flesh from bone if they weren’t careful.
They paused at the line. I felt the moment they pushed through. They had to be using some kind of counter-spell or talisman shielding them from the usual agony.
No one crossed the border and remained the same. The feeling was like being burned alive.
I listened and watched as their boots crunched over the boundary. I exhaled softly, then I struck.