The second sunrise arrived, cold and indifferent, spilling weak, chilly light into the oppressive silence of Allister's wing. Only two sunrises remained until the order. Allister, leaning over his desk, worked with the non-stop, concentrated energy of a man counting down his own execution. He had not slept.
He had spent the early hours writing the coded command to Ivan. His fingers were stiff as he wrote the sealed parchment, throwing away three drafts before settling on the necessary deception. The lie had to be perfect official, yet normal enough to pass off as a routine question should Celeste or one of Maeve's spies intercept it.
He pushed his immense Alpha will into the words, giving the lie weight. Ivan, our reserves are strained. I suspect over-ordering on the Northern Watchtower project. Investigate materials ledger for irregularities. I need receipts by nightfall. Discretion is paramount.
The message was calculated. It suggested a simple failure to be financially honest an acceptable mistake for a Beta not the horrifying treason of working with a non-wolf enemy.
Better, Sunflower's mental voice immediately sliced through his concentration, sharp and decisive. Now, seal it. And Allister, remember: you are asking him to step into a dangerous place for a lie. Be prepared for his loyalty to break.
He sealed the scroll with his Alpha symbol, the wax hard and unforgiving, and summoned a quick, silent runner. As the wolf padded away with the scroll, Allister felt a wave of crushing guilt. Ivan, his brother in arms, was now a pawn in a game of life-and-death deception.
I just risked his life for us, he sent across the bond, the thought laced with raw pain. If Maeve finds out, Ivan will pay the price.
Yes, Sunflower acknowledged, her mental presence suddenly tender, radiating a painful familiarity with betrayal. Welcome to the life of a fugitive, Alpha. Everyone around you gets burned. But he's your Beta. He swore an oath. You are giving him a choice to honor it, even if you can't tell him why.
The empathy that flowed from her was an astonishing intrusion, a shared grief for the burden of command. Allister felt seen, understood in a way no pure-blood pack member ever could.
Hours passed in this painful closeness. Allister was completely focused on the old pack codes, searching for ways to delay. Sunflower, silent in her room, was focused on the financial data Allister had shared the raw numbers and manifest codes shimmering in their shared mental space.
Outside the door, Celeste was growing dangerously restless. Allister's wing had gone unnaturally quiet. There had been no pacing, no shouting, no sound of struggle since their initial meeting. He was supposed to be exerting his authority, breaking the mixed-blood's will. Instead, there was a silence that screamed of compromise.
Celeste stood and paced, her elegant fingers tightening into fists. The sweet scent of her ambition was beginning to sour in the hallway.
She's getting twitchy, Sunflower suddenly informed Allister, her mental voice cool and detached. She doesn't trust silence. She expects rage and failure. Give her a little rage, Alpha. It will make our secret plan sound like a typical alpha-on-mixed-blood struggle.
Allister immediately understood the necessity of performance. He grabbed a heavy, old wooden chest and threw it against the stone wall with a terrifying thud.
"You will reveal the location of the rest of the map, or I will hand you over to the Bone Eaters tonight!" Allister bellowed, his voice raw with forced fury.
Bone Eaters? Sunflower shot him a mental question, her surprise genuine.
Legend for scaring pups. Just scream back, he instructed her mentally, fighting the urge to grin.
Sunflower didn't scream. Instead, she let out a sharp, mocking laugh from behind the stone. "They can't eat what they can't catch, Alpha! And you're too slow to catch a cold!"
The exchange satisfied Celeste, who visibly relaxed, shaking her head in disgusted judgment. Instability, she concluded. Good.
But the secret plan continued, the mental strain mounting. Allister, leaning against the cold stone, was reviewing financial codes projected directly into his mind by Sunflower.
Wait, she interrupted, her mental focus tightening, causing a painful vise-grip around Allister's head. Go back to transaction 771-B. That supplier Kallos Steel is a front for the Ironmongers Guild. They deal exclusively in non-wolf protective materials. Why are they paying Kallos?
Allister gasped, clutching the bridge of his nose. A new thread of dark blood began to seep from his left nostril. The sustained, high-level analysis was ravaging his physical body.
I can't hold this focus much longer, Sunflower. It's draining me, he sent, his mental voice weak and strained.
You have to, she insisted, her mental presence radiating frantic concern. This is it! Celeste is allied with a group that fears silver and loves iron! Find the date of the largest iron transfer!
As she mentally sent the financial statement, a visible, faint shimmer, like heat haze, briefly came from the purple iris of her eye on the other side of the wall. The intense mental activity was pushing her mixed-blood powers to the surface.
Allister fought past the searing pain, focusing on the date: Three months ago. A transfer worth nearly forty percent of the yearly construction budget. It bought the iron that was supposedly used on the Northern Watchtower.
No, Sunflower confirmed, her mental voice filled with chilling realization. That quantity of iron wasn't for construction. It was enough to weaponize a full force, or pay a tremendous price to someone outside the pack. Celeste isn't plotting with a rival Alpha. She's plotting with an ancient enemy who needs Cold Iron.
Just as Allister was about to send a follow-up query to Ivan, the outer door to his wing flew open with a harsh, unexpected thud.
Celeste stood in the frame, her face a mask of furious righteousness. Her patience had shattered.
"Alpha Allister, I must insist!" Celeste's voice was strained, loud enough to draw the attention of the nearest guards. "I heard a very loud crash, followed by screams unnatural ones! Your behavior is compromising the safety of the Silverwood! I demand to see the prisoner to ensure she is still secured, as per Elder Maeve's decree!"
Allister straightened, instantly putting on his Alpha mask. He moved quickly, placing his massive body directly between Celeste and the door to Sunflower's room.
"I heard the crash, Celeste," Allister said, his voice low and dangerous. "I was securing the prisoner. You will return to your post immediately. Your presence here is a distraction to my duty."
Celeste held her ground, her beautiful features twisted with bold fury. "My duty is to ensure your compliance, Alpha! And the constant, erratic energy in this wing suggests the mixed-blood is infecting your judgment! I demand to see her, or I will call the Council Guard and have them secure the room and you along with it!"
The threat was bold, careless, and politically deadly. Allister knew he couldn't let her see Sunflower not while the smell of his blood was still in the air and the mixed-blood's eyes held the secret to Celeste's treason.
He reached out a single hand and placed it on the wall, directly over the spot where he knew Sunflower was standing. He didn't push. He sent a single, terrifying thought across the broken bond, his last instruction before the conflict erupted: Be ready to run, Sunflower. I am buying you time.
Then, he turned his full, searing Alpha focus onto Celeste. "You question my honor, Celeste? You question my duty to the Silverwood?"
The beat of the broken bond surged, a sudden, protective spike of energy flowing from Sunflower through the stone, briefly strengthening Allister's resolve.
Allister closed the distance between himself and Celeste, his voice dropping to a deep, angry growl. "You will remove yourself from my wing and await my formal decree at tomorrow's dawn, Celeste. Or I will have you removed by force for disobeying orders. Choose your fate."
His Alpha command, fueled by the hybrid's chaotic power, made the air crackle with hidden wolf power. Celeste staggered back, momentarily stunned by the terrifying, unfamiliar intensity in his eyes. She knew she had lost this battle.
"As you command, Alpha," she bit out, venom lacing the respect. She spun on her heel and retreated, the defeat heavy in her scent, but her determination to watch him fail was obvious.
Allister stood by the door until the last echo of her footsteps died away. He was victorious, but exhausted. He pressed his forehead against the cold wood of the door, his heart pounding a frantic, painful rhythm.
We have until dawn, he sent, his mind weak and strained. We need that evidence, Sunflower. Ivan is our last hope.