Chapter 199
Chapter: The First Strike
Ayla
There was no time to waste.
By sunrise, the packhouse was buzzing like a hornet’s nest. Orders barked, warriors sharpening blades, patrol units being reshuffled. The scent of sweat and steel lingered in the air.
Jake had barely slept, but he looked more alive than ever. A fire burned in his eyes—focused, dangerous, like a storm waiting to break.
I stood at the edge of the war room, watching him move like a commander born for battle. Chris stood beside the massive map laid across the oak table, red markers scattered like blood across paper.
“Arnold’s last known territory is here,” Chris said, pointing to a valley shadowed by pine forests. “The Bloodhounds kept to themselves, but recent movement suggests something’s changed. Rogues have been seen near the northern ridges.”
“Trying to surround us?” Sophie asked, arms folded tightly across her chest.
“No,” Jake said, stepping forward. “He’s not trying to surround us. He’s luring us. Pushing us to stretch our defenses thin so he can find the weak point.”
He tapped the center of the map. “We don’t give him the chance. We strike first.”
“An offensive?” Fatima asked, arching a brow. “Direct or subtle?”
“Direct enough to rattle him,” Jake said. “But not a war. Not yet.”
I stepped forward. “Then what are we doing?”
Jake turned to me. His voice was low, certain. “We send a message.”
—
By midday, Jake had chosen the team.
Six elite warriors. All hand-picked. All loyal to the core. Fatima would lead with Chris at her side. They would take a small convoy to one of the Bloodhounds’ outposts in the Whispering Pines—the closest station still under Arnold’s name.
“We don’t go in swords swinging,” Jake told them. “Not yet. We go in, show them who they’re dealing with. Tell them to pass the message to their Alpha.”
Fatima smirked. “And what message is that?”
Jake’s eyes glinted. “That we’re not afraid. That the wolves he discarded now stand with me. And if he tries to raise himself by breaking us… we’ll burn everything he has left.”
The room fell silent.
Then Fatima nodded once. “Understood.”
I stood with Jake outside the garage as the convoy prepared. A sleek black SUV idled, its tires kicking up dust. The warriors moved with precision—no wasted motion, no doubt.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked quietly.
Jake didn’t look at me. “No. But waiting would be worse.”
I watched the way his jaw clenched. There was something deeper behind his eyes. Not just anger. Not just defense. Guilt, maybe? Old wounds reopened?
“Did you love him once?” I asked.
Jake blinked, surprised. “Arnold?”
“You called him a friend.”
Jake sighed, finally turning to me. “He was older. I admired him once. When I was just starting out, he taught me a few things. But he never believed I would rise above him. When I did… he took it as betrayal.”
I reached for his hand. “Then let’s finish this. Together.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against my forehead. “We will. And this time… I won’t let him take anything from me.”
—
Whispering Pines Outpost – Late Afternoon
Fatima’s convoy rolled into the clearing like a silent storm. Trees bowed overhead, their branches clawing the gray sky. The outpost was a crumbling structure—old stone, overgrown vines. Two guards stood at the entrance, snarling until they saw the Blackthorn emblem.
“State your business,” one barked, stepping forward, hand near his holster.
Chris stepped out first, towering and calm. “We’re here to speak.”
The guard squinted. “To who?”
Fatima emerged then, her long coat catching in the wind. “Whoever’s foolish enough to still claim this place.”
A figure appeared from the shadows of the outpost—tall, wiry, with silver in his beard and a crooked scar running down his temple. I recognized him through Chris’s bodycam feed from the surveillance room back at the packhouse.
Silas.
Arnold’s right-hand wolf.
“Well, well,” Silas drawled. “Jake sends his second-string now?”
Fatima smirked. “Honey, if you think I’m second-string, you’ve already lost.”
Silas narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
She stepped forward, close enough for her voice to slice through the silence like a blade.
“We know what your Alpha is planning. And we’re not afraid. If he wants to test our strength, let him know he’ll find nothing but fire. And if he dares step into our lands, he’ll crawl back with teeth missing.”
Silas chuckled, but there was a tremor to it. “So dramatic.”
Fatima tilted her head. “No. Just clear.”
Behind her, Chris held up a small pouch. He tossed it onto the ground.
It hit with a thud. Dust flew.
Silas’s expression twisted.
“What is that?” the guard asked.
Chris smiled. “Arnold’s insignia. Taken from one of his own who defected to us last moon. Still warm when we got it.”
Fatima leaned in. “You’re losing people. Fast. You’re not a pack anymore. You’re a tombstone waiting for the name.”
Silas growled, but didn’t respond.
“Pass the message,” she said, turning away.
They left the outpost behind them, the tension sharp as a knife.
—
Later That Night – Blackthorn Packhouse
The war room was quieter now. The fire crackled, casting golden light across the map table.
Fatima gave the full report. Every word, every twitch of Silas’s jaw, noted and recorded.
Jake listened with his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Then he exhaled deeply and stood.
“We rattled him,” he said. “Silas didn’t expect us to come to his doorstep.”
“Do we think they’ll retaliate?” Sophie asked.
“They’ll try,” Jake said. “But not tonight. Arnold will need time to regroup. He won’t admit it, but he’s afraid.”
I watched him closely. “Then what now?”
Jake looked at me, the smallest smile tugging his lips. “Now, we make them bleed.”
I stiffened. “War?”
“Not yet. But we’re close. This was a warning. The next move will be personal. We know Arnold. He won’t hit where it’s strongest. He’ll go for the heart.”
Chris stood suddenly. “You think he’ll target Ayla.”
Jake’s gaze hardened. “No. I know he will.”
My heart stopped.
“I’ll be ready,” I said, lifting my chin.
Jake crossed the room and cupped my face in his hands. “You won’t have to be. Because I won’t give him the chance.”
—
Outside – Midnight
I walked beneath the moonlight, needing to breathe. The wind whispered through the trees. I thought of Prisca. Her voice. Her warning.
We had made the first move.
But this wasn’t over. Not even close.
I turned—and found Jake waiting at the edge of the woods.
“You’re not sleeping,” he said.
“Neither are you.”
He walked toward me, then pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. “I’m not afraid of him. But I’m afraid of losing you.”
“You won’t,” I whispered. “We’re in this together.”
Jake nodded, and his voice turned cold. “Then let’s finish what he started.”
As we stood there in the dark, the scent of blood on the horizon wasn’t just imagined.
It was coming.
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