Chapter 311 - 45: The Unexpected Visitors

The conference room cleared with the heavy, deliberate quiet of a pack council stepping back into the open.

Dane didn’t return immediately to the main house. Instead, he walked the perimeter of the courtyard, letting the chill of the afternoon air bite through his shirt. Henrik followed half a step behind, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, though his eyes never stopped moving. Every few seconds, his gaze drifted toward the treeline beyond the manicured lawn.

To anyone driving through the front gates, the BloodMoon estate looked like a grand house in the final, frantic hours before a high-society wedding.

Catering vans were backed up near the service kitchen, their rear doors thrown open to reveal racks of polished crystal and silver trays. Flotillas of white linens were being snapped flat over round tables beneath the reception marquee. Workers hurried back and forth carrying flowers, chairs, crates, and boxes, while the scent of cut eucalyptus and crushed pine hung thick in the humid air, competing with the smell of freshly turned earth near the gardens.

It was a lavish display.

It was also an elaborate cover.

"The catering staff," Dane said, his voice low enough that only Henrik’s sharp hearing could catch it over the noisy machinery being used near the stables. "Who checked the temporary workers?"

"Sonia handled it herself," Henrik replied. "Every driver, server, and florist was questioned before they were allowed through the outer gate. We know where they came from and who they’re supposed to be working for. None of them raised any suspicion."

Henrik paused, his eyes narrowing toward the distant ridge.

"If Silvercrest has someone watching us from inside, we haven’t found them yet."

Dane’s gaze moved across the lawn.

Two groundskeepers were hauling heavy wooden crates toward the pavilion. They wore plain work clothes and boots, their faces partly hidden beneath caps. From a distance, they looked like ordinary men doing ordinary work.

But Dane watched the way they moved.

The crates should have been difficult to carry.

Instead, the two men handled them with almost careless ease. Their backs remained straight, their steps steady, and neither showed the slightest strain beneath the weight.

Dane stopped walking.

"Those aren’t groundskeepers."

Henrik gave a quiet grunt.

"No."

"Who are they?"

"Two of our best trackers."

Dane watched as one of the men glanced toward the southern fence before lowering his head again.

"How many?"

"Eight hidden among the workers around the gardens. More are scattered around the estate."

Dane nodded slowly.

"And the ones near the southern fence?"

"They know what to do if someone crosses it."

Dane’s expression hardened.

"Make sure they don’t look like they’re waiting for trouble."

Henrik looked at him.

"Vance’s people aren’t stupid. If the estate suddenly looks like a fortress, he’ll know we’re frightened."

"Exactly."

Dane stepped out from beneath the shadow of the portico.

"If this looks like a pack preparing for battle, Silvercrest will know we’ve seen them coming. I want them wondering whether we’re completely unaware of the danger or simply confident enough not to care."

Henrik’s mouth twitched.

"And which are we?"

Dane gave him a sideways look.

"Let them keep wondering."

He turned and headed toward the broad marble steps leading into the main residence.

Inside, the atmosphere was far more suffocating.

While the council room had been filled with the sharp tension of men discussing an approaching threat, the main house carried a different kind of unease.

The air smelled of expensive perfume, hot steam, freshly cut flowers, and the faint sweetness of pastries being prepared in the kitchen.

Servants moved quickly through the long hallways, carrying freshly pressed garments, flower arrangements, and trays for the wedding preparations. They spoke in lowered voices, and more than one pair of nervous eyes darted toward the large windows facing the north ridge.

Everyone knew about Redstone Pass.

The news had never been formally announced to the household, but that hardly mattered.

In a werewolf pack, secrets rarely stayed secret for long.

A whispered conversation between two guards became a quiet warning among the kitchen staff. A worried look from one of the pack elders could spread through the servants before dinner was served. The cancellation of three major supply runs had already made its way through the estate.

Dane climbed the stairs to the master suite. He slowed when he reached the heavy oak doors.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

The conversation with the council still weighed on him. Ramon’s anger. Henrik’s warnings. The mention of Silvercrest scouts near their borders.

He drew in a slow breath.

He needed to leave all of that outside.

Destiny didn’t need to see the Alpha preparing for a fight when she looked at him. She needed her mate.

Dane turned the handle and stepped inside.

Destiny stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rear gardens.

She wore a simple silk robe, her hair half-pinned, with several loose strands falling around her face. Beyond the glass, grey clouds were gathering across the afternoon sky, making the gardens appear darker than they had only an hour earlier.

She didn’t turn around when the door clicked shut.

But her reflection in the glass showed her shoulders relaxing slightly when she heard his footsteps.

"Ramon was shouting," she said gently.

Dane closed the door behind him.

"I noticed."

"I could hear him all the way from the gallery before he left."

Dane crossed the room and stopped behind her, resting his hands lightly on her waist.

"Ramon likes to make sure his opinions are heard."

Destiny smiled faintly.

"That’s one way to describe it."

Dane lowered his chin slightly, his cheek brushing her hair.

"Did he frighten you?"

"No."

She turned in his arms.

"Not exactly."

Her dark eyes searched his face.

"But he made it very clear that everyone is worried."

Dane said nothing.

She studied him for another moment.

"Did he convince you?"

"To do what?"

"To hide me away."

Her voice softened.

"Or to cancel tomorrow."

"Neither."

The answer came without hesitation.

"The wedding proceeds. Exactly as planned."

Destiny’s brows drew together.

"Dane—"

"Every invitation honored. Every table prepared. Every light turned on."

He brushed his thumb gently over her waist.

"We aren’t cancelling anything."

Destiny looked down at his chest, her fingers finding the seam of his collar.

"Hannah came by twenty minutes ago."

Dane’s mouth tightened slightly.

"What did she want?"

"She didn’t say much."

Destiny gave a small shrug.

"She checked the locks on the terrace doors. Then she told me to choose a heavier necklace for tomorrow."

A faint trace of dry humor touched Dane’s lips.

"That’s Hannah’s way of telling you to protect your throat."

"I know."

Destiny leaned her head against his chest.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

She listened to the steady, unhurried beat of his heart beneath her ear.

"It feels strange," she murmured.

Dane’s hand moved slowly over her back.

"What does?"

She lifted her head.

"Everything."

Her eyes moved toward the window.

"Outside those gates, there are men watching our borders. Our supplies aren’t getting through. Everyone is whispering about Redstone Pass."

She looked around the room.

"And in here, people are arguing over whether the table runners should be cream or ivory."

Dane let out a quiet breath that almost became a laugh.

"That’s the point."

His hand settled against the back of her head.

"Vance wants to steal our momentum. He wants us to become afraid of what might happen."

Dane looked into her eyes.

"He wants us to stop living because we’re waiting for him to make his move."

Destiny remained silent.

"The moment we stop moving," Dane continued, "the fear becomes stronger than the threat itself."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"Tomorrow, everyone who matters will be watching us. Our allies. Our neighbors. The packs that haven’t decided where they stand yet."

His voice hardened.

"They will see BloodMoon celebrating."

Destiny’s expression softened, but concern remained in her eyes.

"And if he attacks during the ceremony?"

"He won’t."

The certainty in Dane’s voice made her pause.

"You sound very sure."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because an attack during the ceremony would give us exactly what we need."

Destiny frowned.

"A reason to fight?"

"A reason everyone can understand."

Dane’s jaw tightened.

"An open attack gives us an enemy. It gives our allies a reason to stand beside us. It gives the other packs something they can see with their own eyes."

He shook his head.

"Vance doesn’t want that."

"What does he want?"

"A surrender."

The word hung between them.

"He wants our people frightened. He wants our stores to run low. He wants our allies to wonder whether helping us is worth the trouble."

Dane’s gaze hardened.

"He wants BloodMoon to weaken itself before he ever has to cross our borders."

Destiny’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

"And you think he’ll keep watching?"

"He has to."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn’t know what we’re going to do."

A quiet knock at the door broke the moment.

Henrik didn’t wait for an invitation.

He pushed the door open just enough to step into the room, his expression carefully controlled.

"Dane."

The Alpha immediately looked toward him.

"We have movement on the eastern road."

Destiny’s hand tightened around Dane’s forearm.

Dane felt it, but he didn’t turn away from her.

"Silvercrest?"

"No."

There was something strange in Henrik’s voice.

Dane’s expression changed.

"Then who?"

"Three black vehicles."

Henrik stepped farther into the room.

"They just came through the outer checkpoint."

Dane’s eyes narrowed.

"Did anyone challenge them?"

"They were stopped."

"And?"

Henrik hesitated.

"They presented papers bearing the seal of the High Council."

Destiny went still.

Dane’s voice dropped.

"Whose seal?"

Henrik looked at him.

"The regional magistrate."

Silence filled the room.

Destiny’s breath caught.

The High Council rarely involved itself in disputes between packs unless the situation had become serious enough to threaten the balance between territories.

Their presence could mean many things.

An investigation.

A warning.

A demand.

Or something much worse.

Dane looked toward the window.

Three unfamiliar vehicles were now somewhere beyond the estate grounds, carrying people powerful enough to walk into BloodMoon territory without asking permission.

His fingers found Destiny’s hand.

He gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze before releasing her.

The warmth in his expression disappeared.

The calm mask settled back over his features, hard and unreadable.

"Tell Ramon and Sonia to meet me in the courtyard."

Henrik nodded.

Dane stepped past him into the corridor.

Then he stopped.

"And tell the trackers near the pavilion to stop pretending they’re interested in flowers."

Henrik’s mouth twitched.

"What should they do instead?"

Dane looked toward the staircase.

"Keep their eyes open."

His voice was quiet.

"If the High Council has come all this way without warning us, I want to know why before they reach the house."