Gideon pov.
Silver Creek Town stank of stale beer, damp earth, and the nervous sweat of a thousand transient souls.
It was neutral ground which, in the supernatural world, meant it was a hunting ground for those skilled enough to mask their intentions.
Gideon, the Sentinel, moved through the narrow back alleys like an extension of the shadows.
He was not a Beta, but Alpha Roland trusted his stealth and lethal efficiency above almost all others.
His orders were simple: find Seraphina, the former Northwood maid, and bring her back alive, unnoticed.
He had tracked her to a cramped, dilapidated boarding house near the waterfront.
The surrounding scents were a toxic soup: desperate rogues, low-level human mercenaries, and, most alarmingly, the faint, metallic aroma of Sun Coven magic.
Witches.
They were here, and they were close.
Gideon phased briefly into his wolf form, allowing his senses to cut through the noise.
He immediately located Seraphina's scent.a faint mix of linen and anxiety.coming from a small, windowless room.
But he also smelled a second, dominant presence: a lean, dark-haired man in the guise of a wandering tailor, whose human facade barely masked the sharp, unnatural edge of a Coven operative.
The witch had already found her.
Gideon flattened himself against the stone wall beside the room's doorway.
He heard the witch's voice, smooth and menacing.
"...You know who she is, Seraphina.
The captive girl. What did Richard do to her to keep her quiet?"
"I know nothing of magic, sir," Seraphina whimpered.
"She was a slave.
They were cruel to her.
That is all."
"Lies," the witch hissed.
"The pendant, woman! What did it look like?
Richard's pact with Alpha Roland hinged on a secret.a powerful one.
We need to know where the other half of the Moonfall key is, and you are the only one alive who saw her daily."
Gideon moved.
There was no time for finesse, only speed.
He kicked the door inward, shattering the frame.
The witch reacted instantly, throwing a bolt of sickly green energy.
Gideon dodged, the bolt leaving a scorched, acrid mark on the wall where his head had been milliseconds before.
He covered the distance in a blur.
Before the operative could summon a second spell, Gideon's hand clamped over his mouth, and his forearm snapped around the witch's throat, crushing the windpipe with ruthless finality.
The body dropped silently. Gideon's golden eyes scanned the room, settling on Seraphina, who was huddled, shaking, in the corner.
"I am Gideon, Sentinel of the Shadowlands Pack," he stated, his voice low and firm.
"I am here on Alpha Roland's orders.
The Alpha requires your presence immediately. Can you walk?"
Seraphina stared at the dead witch, then at Gideon's imposing figure.
She saw the Shadowlands crest embroidered on his tunic and swallowed hard.
"He… he did that to her to keep her weak, sir.
They beat her messy, and his mother, Elder Maeve, used herbs to suppress her fire."
Gideon's jaw tightened at the confirmation of Richard's systemic cruelty.
"You will tell the Alpha everything. Now, let's go.
They'll be looking for their man."
He didn't wait for her reply, instead hoisting her over his shoulder with practiced ease.
The Shadow Sentinels had their prize.
The information that Roland needed to protect his mate and his territory.was finally secured.
Gideon plunged back into the dark alleys, leaving the silence and the dead witch behind.
Elara pov.
Elara remained in the East Wing, ostensibly following Roland's order, but her mind was anything but submissive.
The energy surge she had felt while touching the Moonfall symbol had left her feeling strangely alert and slightly feverish.
She kept the old history book hidden beneath the floorboards near the fireplace, her first act of open stubbornness.
She was attempting to sketch the geometric symbols from the book onto a spare piece of parchment when there was a gentle knock.
It was Inez, the kind-eyed maid, carrying a small, beautifully carved wooden box.
"Luna, Alpha Roland sent this from his study," Inez said softly, her eyes still carefully lowered.
"He gave no instructions, only that it was to be placed in your care."
Elara's hands trembled as she took the box. It was plain cedar, unmarked, but felt heavy. Inside, nestled on dark velvet, lay two items:
A small, stoppered vial filled with a thick, golden salve that smelled of wintergreen and old magic.
A heavy, silver-backed hairbrush, simple in design, but clearly crafted with quality, not ostentation.
The golden salve.
Elara knew what it was instantly.
During her worst periods of healing in Richard's basement, she would sometimes be given a tiny, smuggled smear of a similar, expensive healer's balm.the kind used on wolves after a brutal fight.
She lifted the vial and felt a faint, humming warmth emanating from the glass.
Roland had lied to her face, telling her she was weak and irrelevant.
Yet, he had sent her a magical healing balm specifically meant for the deep, long-healed scars she carried.scars he had only seen for a fleeting moment.
He saw them. He sees the cruelty Richard inflicted.
"Inez," Elara asked quietly, holding the balm close, "did the Alpha… Did he say anything else?"
Inez shook her head.
"No, Luna. Only that it was to be delivered now."
Elara's emotions whirled.rage at his political deception, confusing gratitude for this act of silent acknowledgement, and the terrifying, primal ease of their bond that refused to be silenced.
This wasn't the gift of a cruel captor; it was the offering of a deeply conflicted protector.
She went to the mirror and carefully applied a thin layer of the salve to the oldest, thickest scar on her forearm. It didn't burn.
Instead, it sank instantly into her skin, leaving behind a profound, soothing coolness that worked its way into her muscle memory.
He keeps me in a cage of silk and lies, she thought, looking at her reflection. But he gives me the tools to heal the wounds Richard left.
Why?
She knew the answer had to be tied to the witch threat.
She was a weapon he was trying to protect and repair, but his wolf was fighting his Alpha duties.
The tension between his role as her Alpha and his destiny as her mate was a live wire.
Suddenly, a loud, insistent knocking came from the main floor of the manor. It wasn't the sharp tap of Cassian, but a heavy, formal summons.
Inez rushed to the door, peering through the spy-slot. Her eyes went wide with alarm.
"Luna," Inez whispered, panic rising in her voice.
"It's Alpha Richard's Beta.
He is demanding an audience with Alpha Roland.
He says he has come to finalize the details of the trade and check on the Alpha's new 'property.'"
Elara felt the healing sensation of the balm abruptly halt, replaced by cold dread.
Richard's pack was here, and if they saw her recovering, or sensed the truth, the fragile peace Roland was fighting for would shatter.
The confrontation is coming fast! Richard's pack is demanding to see Elara to ensure she is still weak and suppressed.
Meanwhile, Roland has just received Seraphina and the full, horrifying truth of Elara's torture.