Chapter Four
1215 Words
Sloane
“Lena, get back.”
I barely get the words out before I'm pulling my boots and tunic over my damp skin, my dagger never leaving my hand. Lena moves behind me without argument, keeping her own weapon trained on Rhys as he slowly gets to his feet.
He brushes pine needles from his leather jacket as though being tackled into the mud by an armed eighteen-year-old is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. There isn't even a trace of fear in his expression.
Instead, he raises an amused eyebrow.
“You two are a long way from Whitmore or Banecrest.”
Lena's grip tightens around her dagger. “How do you know where we're from?”
Rhys crosses his arms, studying us with far too much interest.
“Because I've been tracking your scent since you crossed the eastern border forty-eight hours ago.” His gaze settles on me. “My cousin is going to be very interested in finding out why Banecrest's brand-new Luna is running through Lockwood territory.”
My stomach twists in dread, we ran so far and so fast that we crossed the border without even realizing it.
We escaped one monster only to stumble straight into the territory of his greatest enemy.
“Don't look at us like we're prizes,” I snap, stepping in front of Lena. “And don't call me his Luna. I belong to no one.”
A faint smile tugs at Rhys's mouth.
“Oh?”
He takes a slow step toward us.
“A lover's quarrel on your wedding night?”
“Don't.”
My voice comes out colder than I expect, but his smile widens.
“Calm down. Banecrest has been launching raids against us for the past year. It's only fair I take you captive. My cousin will be thrilled to discover Silas Theron's greatest weakness has practically walked into our territory.”
Silas's weakness.
The words strike something inside me, and a memory surfaces.
A war room with a map spread across a table.
Silas standing over it with several generals while I sat nearby, quietly pouring his tea. I remember the way he used to speak about the Lockwoods, about dividing their forces and exploiting their western border. Then another memory flashes.
Explosives.
Three locations he had asked me to choose.
My pulse jumps.
Silas wasn't simply attacking the Lockwoods. He was preparing something much bigger.
And if my memory is right, it is supposed to happen soon.
“We aren't his weakness,” I say, causing Rhys's amusement to fade slightly.
I hold his gaze.
“And if you waste time dragging us to your Alpha as prisoners, you might be walking your entire pack into a trap.”
His eyes narrow.
“What trap?”
I hesitate for half a second, then I gamble everything.
“Silas is planning an ambush against your western supply lines.” The forest suddenly feels quieter, and Rhys doesn't move.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know how he thinks.”
It's a lie, or at least, it's the safest version of the truth I can give him.
“I know he planted explosives inside your territory. Three caches.” Lena glances at me, but she doesn't interrupt.
“Where?”
“The western forest. Near the abandoned watchtower.”
His hand slowly drops from his chest.
“You're lying.”
“Then check.”
I lift my dagger slightly, forcing myself not to let my hands tremble.
“Send a scout to the old hunting trail. Search beneath the roots around the watchtower. If you find nothing, you can bring me before your Alpha and execute me yourself.” Rhys studies me in silence, and I can practically see him weighing every possibility.
“If you're telling the truth?”
“Then you have a much bigger problem than two women crossing your border.”
His jaw tightens, and I continue before he can answer.
“Silas won't attack where you expect him to. He'll create a distraction in the south, force your strongest warriors away from the center, and strike when your defenses are weakest.”
The memory comes back in fragments rather than a perfect picture. I can't remember every detail, but I remember enough.
Enough to make this believable.
Enough to save us.
“And the explosives?” Rhys asks, his eyes sharpening.
“They're meant to trap your forces when they move east.”
There's silence for a few seconds before he lets out a humorless laugh.
“You expect me to believe that Banecrest has already planted explosives inside our territory?”
“I expect you to check.” I retort, more aggressively than I intend. His eyes widen at this, I know I can't expect him to believe me immediately but I need to convince him, just enough to verify.
I search his gray eyes for a moment, then he reaches for the radio clipped to his belt.
The moment he presses the button, static crackles through the forest.
“Beta to Vanguard Three.”
His voice has changed completely, there is no trace amusement left.
“I need an immediate sweep of the western perimeter. Send a stealth team to the abandoned watchtower. Search beneath the northern foundation and surrounding root systems. I want every inch checked for concealed materials or magical markings.”
A voice crackles back through the speaker.
“Copy that, Beta. Moving now.”
Rhys lowers the radio, and turns his eyes to me.
“If you're lying to me, Sloane Theron…”
He pauses.
“You won't survive the night.”
Lena immediately steps forward.
“Don't threaten my sister.”
Rhys looks at her, and for a moment, something almost amused flickers in his eyes again, but it disappears before I can decide whether I imagined it.
“Your sister seems perfectly capable of threatening herself.”
I want to smile, but the adrenaline still rushing through my veins makes it impossible to feel anything but the weight of what I've just done.
I don't know if the explosives are still there.
I don't even know if the ambush will happen exactly as I remember it. But I know one thing.
I have just changed the future.
Rhys turns toward the narrow trail disappearing between the trees. “We're going to my estate.”
I frown.
“You're not taking us to your Alpha?”
His gaze slides over his shoulder as he starts walking.
“Not yet.” He pauses.
“I'm not stupid enough to bring two armed strangers directly into Tristan's territory before I know whether you're telling the truth.”
That earns the first genuine flicker of relief from me.
But Rhys isn't finished.
He stops several feet ahead and looks back at us.
“Move.”
Lena and I exchange a glance before following him into the trees. As we disappear beneath the thick canopy, Rhys speaks without turning around.
“My cousin will be very interested in meeting
you.”
A chill runs down my spine despite myself, because I know exactly who his cousin is.
And unlike Rhys, I've heard what kind of man Tristan Lockwood becomes when someone walks into his territory carrying secrets.
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