Chapter 71: The Last Thread

\- SELENE

When the dinner hour approached, I sat down at the desk and pulled out a pen and paper. I took a deep breath and began to write, the words coming with a speed that surprised me.

By the time Liora knocked on the door, I had filled four pages.

"Luna, it's almost six. Should we get the cart?"

I nodded, folding the pages. "Give me a moment. I need to leave a note."

"A note?"

"Kaelen is obsessed with performances," I said. "If I don't leave him something, he'll suspect I'm gone."

"Do you think that will stop him?"

"No," I said, turning toward the dresser. "But if he knows the story, maybe he won't destroy the players."

I tucked the note into the top drawer, along with a silver chain and a black silk dress. The necklace was the one Kaelen had given me on the third day, the one with the wolf-shaped pendant.

This time, it wouldn't be a gift. It would be a clue.

"All right," I said, walking toward the door. "Let's go. It's showtime."

The air in the laundry room was thick with the scent of lye and the damp, heavy heat of the boilers. It was a suffocating space, but here, in the bowels of the manor, the noise of the machines masked our whispers.

Betsy was hunched over a massive wooden crate, her knuckles white as she stuffed heavy woolen blankets into the bottom. She didn't look up when I slipped through the service door, my silk skirts gathered in my hands to keep them from the wet floor.

"Is it done?" I whispered, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against the silver necklace.

Betsy finally looked at me. Her face looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red from the steam and the lack of sleep. She reached into the folds of a stained apron and pulled out a small, heavy object wrapped in oilcloth.

"The gate override," she said, her voice a low rasp. "I swiped it from the head engineer’s belt while he was distracted by the Alpha’s 'celebration' last night. It’s a manual bypass. If the power goes, this is the only thing that will move the iron."

I took the cold metal and slid it into the hidden pocket of my petticoat. "And the cart?"

"Liora’s prepping it now," Betsy said, stepping closer. She smelled of starch and old woodsmoke.

Betsy grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong for a little girl who spent her days playing around in the manor. "You’re really doing this. You’re leaving the pack."

"I’m leaving the cage, Betsy," I corrected. "Kaelen thinks he’s bought me with silver and treaties. He’s so busy looking at the borders that he’s forgotten what’s happening in his own basement."

"He’ll kill us if we’re caught," she whispered. A trace of actual indecision went over her face, a shadow of doubt crossing her eyes for a heartbeat. She looked at the heavy iron doors that led to the courtyard, then back at me.

"Then we won't be caught," I said, my voice hardening. "I’ve spent four years watching him, Betsy. I know his blind spots. Tonight, we use them."

I reached up and touched the silver pendant at my throat. It felt lighter now that I’d broken the runes, but it was still a shackle. "Has there been any word? From the outside?"

"They have been quiet," Betsy said, looking toward the high, barred window. "But the wind changed an hour ago. There’s a sharp, electric tang in the air, like the scent of a coming storm. Something is moving out there, Luna. I can feel it in my marrow."

A soft, frantic tapping at the inner door made us both jump. I was a live wire, twitching at every footfall.

Liora slipped inside, her face pale and her breathing shallow. She didn't look at the cart; she looked straight at me.

"He’s here," she breathed.

"Kaelen?" I asked, my hand flying to the hidden override in my pocket.

"No," Liora said, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and hope. "Rowan. He’s inside the walls. I just came from the library—the servants were whispering about a shadow in the archives. He’s making his move, Luna. He’s going for the power lines and the communication hub."

My knees nearly gave out. Rowan. He was actually here, moving through the house like the ghost I’d prayed for.

"If he cuts the power, the whole manor goes into lockdown," I said, the plan shifting in my head like pieces on a board. "The electronic locks will fail, but the manual ones will engage. That’s our window."

"The guards are already panicking," Liora added. "They can’t get a signal to the border outposts. Kaelen is in the war room, screaming for the head of the comms officer. He thinks it’s an external sabotage—he has no idea the threat is already in his library."

I looked at the laundry cart. It looked so small, so fragile against the weight of the fortress around us. Give him the rope, I thought, thinking of Kaelen. Let him hunt for ghosts in the hallway while the real prize walks out the back door.

"Liora, get to the cart," I commanded, my voice snapping with a new authority. "If the power goes out, the infirmary guards will be distracted. Get him to the south gate. We meet there in twenty minutes."

"What are you going to do?" Liora asked, her hand on the handle of the linen trolley.

"I’m going to give the distraction," I said. "Kaelen will be looking for the person who cut his wires. He won't be looking for a Luna who’s supposedly locked in her room, nursing a 'headache'."

I turned to the mirror on the wall, a cracked, silvered thing that showed a woman I barely recognized. I looked like a queen, but I felt like a wolf with its hackles up. I reached up and unfastened the silver necklace, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy, metallic clang.

"Let him find that," I whispered. "Let him think I’ve shifted and run for the hills."

"Selene, be careful," Betsy said, her eyes filling with tears. "If Rowan is in there..."

"Then he’s doing his job," I said. "Now go. Move the cart. Don't stop for anything. Even if you hear me scream, you keep walking."

Liora gave a sharp nod and pushed the heavy cart toward the service lift. The wheels squeaked—a sharp, nervous sound in the quiet of the basement. I watched them go until the lift doors hissed shut, leaving me alone with the smell of steam and the sound of my own thudding heart.

I stepped out of the laundry room and into the back corridor. The lights overhead flickered, then dimmed. A low, vibrating hum echoed through the floorboards—the sound of the manor’s secondary generators struggling to kick in.

Rowan was doing it. He was cutting the throat of the beast.

I moved toward the main staircase, my bare feet silent on the cold stone. I needed to get to the library, to the center of the storm. If Kaelen was heading there, I needed to be the one to intercept him. I needed to lead him away from the service exit, away from the laundry cart carrying the only hope we had left.

As I reached the foyer, the lights died completely.

For a heartbeat, the manor was plunged into a suffocating, absolute darkness. Then, the emergency red lights flickered on, casting long, bloody shadows across the marble floors.

A shout echoed from above—Kaelen’s voice, raw and filled with a fury that made the air vibrate.

"Varick! Get to the library! Find whoever is in the wires and bring me their head!"

I didn't hide. I didn't pull back into the shadows. I walked straight toward the grand staircase, my head held high. I could feel the sharp, electric tang in the air. It wasn't just a storm. It was the end of the world.

I saw a shadow move at the top of the landing—a tall, lean figure that moved with a grace no pack guard possessed. My heart leapt. Rowan.

But before I could call out, another shadow emerged from the hall. Kaelen. He was holding a silver-tipped blade, the red light catching the edge of the metal.