Chapter 18

Rath.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and here I was, trying to address the group like some kind of motivational speaker. "As you all know, the news is grim: one of our members was murdered in cold blood. There's no evidence yet on the perpetrator or the motive," I began, channeling my best "serious leader" voice.

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Raider sauntered in like he'd just rolled out of bed after a particularly wild night. He plopped into a chair with all the enthusiasm of a bored teenager at a family dinner, barely sparing the room a glance.

"Someone is trying to shift the balance," I growled, locking eyes with Harry. "Harry! Look at me."

Harry flinched like I'd just accused him of eating the last slice of pizza. "Hey, hey, I know we've had issues in the past, but it was definitely not me," he said, holding up his hands defensively. Then, with a smirk, he added, "Besides, weren't you trained by militia and mercenaries? Maybe you got bored and decided to try out your skills—"

"Watch it!" I snapped, my glare shutting him up faster than a slammed door.

"Let's just calm down, take a breather," Alpha Dane interjected, conveniently gulping down my expensive booze like it was tap water.

Raider, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly leaned forward, furrowing his brow in what I assumed was a serious expression. "It had to be an assassin with exceptional skills. Theron wasn't an easy target," he said, as if he'd cracked the case.

The room fell silent, his words sinking in. K!lling an Alpha wasn't just murder; it was basically throwing a spoiled cocktail at pack unity.

"So, what's our next move?" Dane asked, sounding way too sharp for someone three drinks deep into my liquor stash.

I glanced around the room, locking eyes with each of them. "We find out who killed him and make them talk," I said firmly, my gaze lingering on Raider. He was uncharacteristically quiet, sitting there with his hand over his nose like he was sniffing some imaginary perfume. Was he high?

Harry broke the silence. "Could it be the human girl's people? Maybe they couldn't let her go without a fight," he speculated, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"No!" Raider and I barked at the same time, causing heads to snap toward us. The rare moment of agreement was startling, even to me. Raider hated humans more than I did, and now he was defending one? That was... suspicious. And what was with his hand? He'd been sniffing it like it was coated in truffle oil. I could smell blood faintly, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. It had a very unique smell that drew me in, it actually smelled delicious.

"The assassin was no amateur," Raider said, his tone sharper now. "Theron wouldn't have gone down easily. Humans don't have the expertise to take out an Alpha like that."

I nodded. "What matters now is restoring order to his pack and ensuring peace prevails," I added, mentally bracing for the uphill battle ahead. Leading the SilverStrike Pack without their Alpha was like trying to herd cats during a thunderstorm.

"Plans for his burial are already underway," I continued. "By SilverStrike custom, he must be laid to rest before the full moon on Thursday." Because, of course, nothing says "pack unity" like a strict lunar deadline.

For a moment, my mind drifted. I thought back to the wedding, recalling the venomous glare Dahlia had shot Theron. That look could have peeled paint off a wall. She'd never looked at me that way, not even when I deserved it. What had he done to earn her Olympic-level hatred?

And then, like an unwelcome pop-up ad, another memory surfaced. Dahlia beneath me, her legs wrapped around me, her cranberry scent intoxicating as I traced my hands over her. She felt good, f!ck I started getting hard just at that simple thought.

"Isn't that right?" Harry's voice yanked me back to reality like a cold slap to the face.

"Uh, yes," I muttered, praying no one noticed the faint flush creeping up my neck. Focus. Now was definitely not the time to get lost in those thoughts.

*********

I watched them drive out of my compound from the window, their taillights disappearing into the distance.

"It's hard for them to fake it," Raider remarked from behind me. "You could feel the doubts radiating off them. They'll blame the humans soon enough."

I turned, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "This whole situation is a disaster, and the timing couldn't be worse. But I'll figure it out," I said, dropping into my chair with a heavy sigh.

Raider leaned casually against the doorframe, looking as smug and unbothered as ever. Something about his demeanor irked me—maybe it was the way he'd been so checked out during the meeting.

"You looked spaced out in there, like you were high. What were you thinking about?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Raider smirked, his signature move when he didn't want to answer a question. "Nothing," he replied, as evasive as ever.

But then there it was again—that odd little gesture. He raised his hand to his nose and sniffed it, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. It was subtle, but I'd seen it enough times to know it wasn't normal. My curiosity got the better of me.

"What's on your hand? Why do you keep sniffing it and closing your eyes like that?" I pressed, my tone sharp.

Raider's smirk widened. "Just an enchanted berry," he said, his voice dripping with nonchalance, as if that explained anything at all. Typical Raider, keeping his secrets close.

I shook my head, giving up on getting a straight answer from him, and stood to look out the window. That's when I saw her—the human girl—moving through the garden. She held a rake in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other, her movements purposeful but quiet.

What on earth was she doing out there? My garden wasn't exactly the kind of place people wandered into uninvited. And yet, there she was, as if she belonged.

I frowned, my curiosity shifting. Raider and his berry-sniffing could wait. For now, I wanted to know what she was up to.

***********

Dahlia.

I stood behind the tree, trying to be all mysterious, but mostly just hoping they wouldn't notice me. The tension in the air was so thick I half expected it to strangle me. Whatever serious conversation my husband and the other Alphas were having had clearly thrown them off. One by one, they left, their towering figures striding toward their cars like they owned the place.

"The human girl was a mistake," the Alpha with cinnamon brown hair grumbled. "Now look at us. Paying for it. It's gotta be the humans," he muttered, as if the humans were the root of all evil.

"Or one of our own did it," the brown-headed man shot back. "Trust is a rare commodity these days. We fought for our freedom only to have it ruined by a human among us. Did you see how she showed up at Cassian's wedding? Dressed in red. Blood red. Then Theo dies that night. Coincidence? I don't think so. Message sent," he added dramatically, practically rolling his eyes at the "human" topic.

"From now on, we do things our way. Trust no one, especially anyone married to a human. Who even needs that plaza? Let it fall apart. We're better off without it," the short-haired Alpha with black hair chimed in, clearly bitter about the whole situation.

Ouch. It stung to hear them talk like that, even though they were obviously discussing *me*. I stood there, hidden in the shadows, soaking in every word. Once they left, I casually added a few coriander seedlings to my garden like nothing happened, then spun around and nearly gave myself a heart attack.

Rath was standing there, staring at me. "Nice garden," he said, inspecting my handiwork. "Your hands can do more than just hit me with bread. This is... interesting."

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but my mind was buzzing. I had caught wind of some Alpha's death earlier on a gossip site, but no one had confirmed the details. I texted Rath to see if I could pry some info out of him.

"Is it true that one of the Alphas was killed?" I asked, tapping out the message.

He glanced at his phone, his face twitching slightly with annoyance. "None of your business, nosy old Donald," he shot back.

I smirked, fingers itching to stir the pot. "I bet you'd like to know what the nosy old Donald overheard the other Alphas saying about you," I teased, sending the message with a wink.

His eyebrows furrowed, and boom—just like that, I had his attention. "What did they say?" he demanded.

I gave him a mischievous grin and shook my head, playing coy.

"I'll get you carrot seeds and fertilizer if you spill," he tried, offering a bribe.

I typed out what I had overheard, watching as his expression shifted to one of mild annoyance.

"Nothing surprising," he muttered, clearly unamused. By the way, where's Theron's wife? I'd like to offer my condolences to her.

"Victoria,is his wife, right?" I texted.

He nodded. "The funeral's tomorrow night. Alex will make a dress for you. And please—no antics like at the wedding. I still need to lecture you about that," he warned with a stern look.

I rolled my eyes. Seriously? He was going to lecture me? And who the heck holds a funeral at night?