My Ex Mate Betrayed Me, Now The Enemy Alpha Wants Me

Chapter five

Tristan.

Rhys interrupts me while I’m painting, causing my brush to drag a harsh, jagged streak of color straight across the canvas.

The ruined stroke alone is enough to test my patience before he even speaks.

He pushes through the double doors of my studio without bothering to announce himself. One look at his tense, rigid posture tells me that whatever brought him back from the eastern border isn't going to wait until morning.

"What happened?" I ask, setting my palette down.

"Did you clear the perimeter?"

"We found two trespassers,"

Rhys says bluntly. "But it's complicated. I brought them back to the estate. They're up in the high-security guest suite."

I frown, wiping the paint from my fingers with a cloth.

"Well? If they crossed our borders, interrogate and execute them."

"I think you'd want to see these two first," Rhys replies, his voice dropping to a low, grim pitch.

"One of them is Sloane Theron."

The name means nothing for half a second before it clicks in my brain like a physical blow. Banecrest's brand-new Luna. The woman Silas Theron allegedly married just two days ago. I stare at my cousin in shock.

"You're joking."

"I wish I was.”

"And she's inside my territory? Right now?"

"With her younger sister, Lena," Rhys nods.

"And Tristan... before I brought them in, the Luna told me exactly where Banecrest had hidden explosives inside our borders. I sent Vanguard Three to check the coordinates at the western watchtower. They just radioed in. She wasn't lying. They found a massive cache of black powder and runes buried beneath the roots."

I get off my stool, tossing the cloth aside and taking one last glance at my ruined painting. The underlying threat of an internal ambush completely eclipses my irritation.

"Take me to them.”

I follow Rhys through the wood-paneled corridors of the estate, my mind racing.

Plenty of packs have tested our borders over the years. Most never make it far enough to do any real damage, and the few who survive rarely make the mistake of returning.

Banecrest is the only exception. They've attacked us repeatedly and managed to retreat safely more than once, making them the only pack with the privilege of being considered a threat. And now, their Luna is sitting in my house, selling out her husband's secrets.

When I enter the guest quarters, both girls are sitting at a heavy oak table, their hands bound in silver-reinforced cuffs.

The older one doesn't look like a captive at all. She sits confidently, her sharp green eyes tracking the guard by the door as though she's simply waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Beside her, the younger sister watches the room with open hostility.

I stop in front of the table, studying the older sister.

"Sloane Theron."

Her green eyes immediately snap to mine. They are incredibly sharp.

Breathtaking, even.

"Ryker,” she corrects me instantly, her tone like ice.

I frown. “What?”

"My name is Sloane Ryker."

There's a brief, heavy silence. I glance at Rhys, who looks far too amused by the woman's sheer audacity.

“I didn't ask for your name,” I state coldly.

“And that apparently gives you a reason to call me by the wrong one?” she retorts, leaning forward slightly.

Rhys hides a sudden laugh behind a rough cough. I tilt my head, thoroughly amused by her defiance.

"Fine. Sloane Ryker. Why did you cross into my territory?"

"Before we discuss that," Sloane says, her gaze moving toward the guards before returning to lock onto mine,

“I'd like to know whether you're planning to kill us. I already gave your Beta the location of your western threat."

"That depends."

"On?"

"Whether you give me a reason not to.”

The younger sister, Lena, scoffs loudly from her seat. "You could just keep us locked up, ignore her, and watch Banecrest tear your pack apart from the inside."

Sloane and I both turn to look at her. Where I am trying to read the girl's hostility, the corner of Sloane’s mouth lifts in a faint, proud smirk.

"Interesting," I say, stepping closer to the table. "You seem very confident for someone in chains."

Lena smiles without a shred of warmth. "I'm just saying what she's thinking."

I look back at Sloane, leaning my hands on the edge of the table. "Then tell me what you're thinking."

She takes a slow, steady breath. "I'm thinking that your territory is a minefield, Alpha Lockwood. Rhys told me your vanguard cleared the watchtower, but that's only one. There are two more."

"Where?" I demand.

"One is beside the old hunting trail," Sloane says smoothly, her heartbeat remaining maddeningly steady against my wolf senses.

There isn't a single tremor of fear in her heartbeat. Either she's telling the truth, or she's leading me exactly where she wants me to.

"And the final one is buried near your eastern supply depot. I will give you the exact coordinates the moment we secure a deal."

I narrow my eyes and lean closer, invading her space until the scent of rain and sweet pine reaches me.

"A deal? And what is your price, Sloane? Gold?"

"No," Sloane answers firmly, holding my gaze without a single flinch.

"I want sanctuary."

I pause, staring at her in genuine shock. "Sanctuary? Here?"

"Yes," she states cleanly.

"I want your word that my sister and I will have full protection inside Lockwood territory. I want a place to live, guaranteed safety, and your absolute refusal to hand us over when Silas inevitably comes knocking on your borders.”

“The gold would be much appreciated too,” Lena chips in and Sloane nods her head with a small smile.

“Yeah, the gold too.”

Rhys shakes his head, a low chuckle escaping his throat before I can reply.

"You want to hide in the territory of your husband's greatest enemy? You're insane."

Lena looks at Rhys like he just asked the stupidest question in the world.

"She's obviously being practical, geez. I thought you Lockwoods were only cowards, but turns out you're slow, too."

I ignore the younger sister's remark entirely, keeping my focus locked onto the green-eyed storm in front of me.

"Why stay here? Silas will tear the world apart looking for his Luna. If you want to disappear, the neutral lands are thousands of miles away."

"Which is exactly where Silas will look for me," Sloane says, a slow, cold smirk touching her lips.

"The last place on earth he will ever expect me to hide is right here, under the Lockwood pack."

The room falls silent. Even the guards are staring at her now. Sloane, however, doesn't seem bothered by any of it. She holds my gaze as she tilts her head slightly in defiance, her heavy, wet hair shifting over her.

For a fraction of a second, the damp fabric at her collar shifts, and my breath catches.

At the nape of her neck, an intricate crescent-shaped mark catches my eye. My wolf erupts inside me, its reaction so violent it nearly tears through my control. I force my expression into something unreadable and step away.

Sloane tracks me, her eyes narrowing as she tries to understand my sudden silence, but she has no idea what I've just seen.

She thinks she's nothing more than a runaway bargaining for sanctuary. She has no idea what she's just brought into my territory.

I turn my back to her.

"Rhys, grant them the sanctuary. Give them the gold they asked f

or." I glance back over my shoulder, meeting her sharp green eyes one last time.

"But keep a guard on her door.” Rhys raises an eyebrow. “You don't trust her?”

“Not yet.”

“But I intend to find out exactly why Silas Theron's new Luna knows so much about a war she should know nothing about.”