As we reached the main hall, Lucas appeared, his expression unusually serious. "We have a situation," he said without preamble. "Hunters have been spotted on the eastern border of our territory. Three of them, heavily armed."

Caleb's demeanor shifted instantly from relaxed to Alpha mode. "When?"


"Twenty minutes ago. The border patrol picked up their scent and tracked them to an abandoned cabin just inside our boundary line. They're watching the place now, waiting for instructions."

"Organize a response team," Caleb ordered. "You, me, and four of our strongest fighters. No one engages until I arrive."

Lucas nodded, already turning to carry out the instructions. Caleb looked at me, conflict clear in his eyes. "I have to handle this," he said. "Hunters on our territory, this close to the gala—it can't be coincidence."


"I'm coming with you," I said immediately.

"Absolutely not," he countered. "You've just transformed for the first time. You're still learning control. And if these are the same hunters who targeted your mother—"


"Then I have more right than anyone to confront them," I interrupted. "This isn't just about pack security, Caleb. This is about my mother's murder, about threats against me specifically."

"Which is exactly why you should stay here, where it's safe," he argued.

I crossed my arms, standing my ground. "I'm not some helpless human anymore. I'm a werewolf, officially recognized by your council and part of your pack. I have abilities that might be useful. And most importantly, I deserve to be part of this."

He stared at me for a long moment, clearly torn between protection and respect for my autonomy. Finally, he sighed. "You stay with me at all times," he conceded. "You follow every instruction without question. And at the first sign of serious danger, you retreat. Those are my conditions."

"Agreed," I said quickly, before he could change his mind.

"I'm going to regret this," he muttered, but there was a hint of pride beneath his concern. "Let's go."

As we moved toward the garage where the response team was assembling, I felt a strange mixture of fear and anticipation. Hunters—humans who knew about werewolves and sought to destroy them—had been abstract threats until now. The possibility of confronting those who might have killed my mother made the danger viscerally real.

Yet beneath the fear was something else—a fierce determination, a sense of rightness about facing these threats directly rather than hiding from them as I had unknowingly done my entire life. My wolf stirred within me, ready to protect what was hers—her freedom, her pack, her potential mate.

Whatever awaited us in that cabin, I would face it as my mother hadn't been able to—with full knowledge of my heritage, my abilities, and with a pack at my back. The thought didn't banish fear, but it transformed it into something I could use, a sharpened awareness that might make the difference between life and death.

The response team assembled quickly—Caleb, Lucas, and four other werewolves whose names I learned were Ethan, Derek, Maya, and Kira. All moved with the quiet efficiency of those accustomed to danger, checking weapons (both conventional and otherwise) and communicating in the shorthand of long association.

"Eve comes with us but stays protected," Caleb informed them, his tone making it clear this wasn't open for discussion. "She may have insights about the hunters we need."

If any of them questioned my presence, they didn't show it. Maya, a compact woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor, simply handed me a dark jacket. "Less visible in the woods," she explained briefly.

We took two SUVs, driving with lights off once we left the main road. The night vision I'd discovered in wolf form translated partially to my human eyes—not as acute, but still far better than before my transformation. I could make out details of the forest passing outside the window that would have been invisible to me a day earlier.

"We'll stop half a mile from the cabin," Caleb explained as he drove, his voice low and focused. "Approach on foot from different directions to surround the location. Our priority is information—who they are, why they're here, what they know about us. Capture if possible, but your safety comes first."

"What about killing them?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could reconsider its implications.

Caleb's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Only as a last resort. Hunters operate in networks—kill one, and others come looking. Better to capture, extract information, and release with a warning and modified memories."

"You can alter memories?" This was a new piece of information about werewolf abilities.

"Alphas can, to a limited extent," he confirmed. "It's not perfect, but it can blur specific details while leaving the general fear intact. Enough to make them avoid our territory in the future."

The casual way he discussed such abilities reminded me how much I still had to learn about this world I'd entered. Every day seemed to bring new revelations about what werewolves could do, the powers they possessed beyond mere physical transformation.

We parked in a small clearing and continued on foot, moving silently through the forest. Despite my newness to werewolf abilities, I found myself naturally falling into the quiet, predatory movement of the others—placing my feet carefully, using scent and sound to navigate as much as sight.

About a quarter-mile from our destination, Caleb signaled for us to stop. "We separate here," he whispered. "Lucas, take Maya and Ethan around to the east. Derek and Kira, approach from the west. Eve stays with me—we'll take the direct southern approach."

As the others melted into the darkness, Caleb turned to me. "Stay behind me," he instructed. "If I give the signal to retreat, you run back to the vehicles without hesitation. Understood?"

I nodded, though privately I wasn't certain I could abandon him if danger arose. The protective instinct I felt toward him seemed as natural and immutable as breathing.

We moved forward slowly, using the cover of trees and undergrowth. As we drew closer to the cabin, I extended my awareness, using my new ability to sense connections. The pack bonds between our team members glowed like threads in my mind's eye, allowing me to track their positions despite the darkness and distance.

"I can feel where everyone is," I whispered to Caleb. "Our team, I mean. The pack bonds."

He glanced at me, surprise and approval in his expression. "That's useful. Can you sense anything from the cabin? Any werewolf presence?"

I focused my ability in that direction, searching for the distinctive signature of pack bonds. "Nothing werewolf," I confirmed. "But there's... something else. Not pack bonds, but some kind of connection. Different. Thinner, more artificial."

"Hunters often work in coordinated teams," Caleb murmured. "You might be sensing their human connections to each other."

The idea that my ability might extend beyond werewolves to human relationships was startling but made a certain sense. Connections were connections, after all—the nature of the beings forming them might differ, but the underlying principle remained.

We reached the edge of the small clearing where the cabin stood—a dilapidated structure that had clearly been abandoned for years before the hunters took up residence. Light flickered through boarded windows, suggesting lanterns or candles rather than electricity.

Caleb signaled for me to stay put while he crept closer, using the shadows to approach a window. I watched, heart pounding, as he peered through a gap in the boards, then returned to my position.

"Three men," he confirmed in a whisper. "Heavily armed—rifles, handguns, what looks like specialized equipment. They're studying maps of the area, focusing on the estate."

"The gala," I realized. "They're planning something for tomorrow night."

He nodded grimly. "That would be my guess. We need to hear what they're saying." He touched his ear, indicating enhanced hearing, then pointed to the cabin.

We crept closer together, finding a position near enough to use our werewolf hearing but still concealed by underbrush. The men's voices gradually became clear enough to distinguish.

"—security will be heaviest at the main entrance," one was saying. "But the old service road provides access to the east wing with minimal coverage."

"What about the werewolves themselves?" another asked. "Silver works, but not as quickly as the legends claim. We need to be precise."

"That's what this is for," a third voice responded, followed by the sound of something heavy being placed on a table. "Latest version of the compound. Paralyzes them within seconds, giving us time for a clean kill."

"And you're sure the Gray girl will be there?" the first voice asked. "All this planning is worthless if our primary target isn't present."

My blood ran cold. They were after me specifically, just as hunters had targeted my mother years before.

"Our source confirms she's completed her first transformation and will attend the gala as part of the Blackwood pack," the third man replied. "After twenty years of searching, we finally have the chance to end the Gray bloodline completely."

Caleb's hand found mine in the darkness, squeezing tightly. His face was a mask of controlled fury, his body tense with the effort of not charging into the cabin immediately.

"What about Blackwood?" the second voice asked. "He'll be protecting her."

"We have plans for him too," the third man said, a smile evident in his voice. "Our friend on the inside has ensured he'll be... distracted at the critical moment."

An inside source. A traitor among the werewolves, someone who had told these hunters about my transformation, about the gala, about Caleb's protection. The revelation sent a chill down my spine even as anger built within me.

Caleb tugged my hand, indicating we should withdraw to a safer distance. Once we were far enough away to speak in hushed tones, he activated a small communication device.

"Lucas," he murmured. "We have confirmation. Three hunters planning an attack on the gala, specifically targeting Eve. They have an inside source and some kind of new paralytic compound. Hold positions while we determine the best approach."

"Understood," Lucas's voice came back softly. "All units in position and awaiting orders."

Caleb turned to me, his expression grave. "This changes things. We need to capture them, find out who their inside source is before the gala."

"They're specifically after me," I said, the reality sinking in. "Because of my bloodline, my abilities."

"The same reason they targeted your mother," he confirmed grimly. "The Gray abilities have always been feared by those who prefer werewolves divided and weakened."

"What's the plan?" I asked, pushing aside fear in favor of action.

He studied me for a moment, as if gauging my readiness for what came next. "We need to draw them out, separate them if possible. Taking all three at once in an enclosed space is too risky with their weapons."

"Use me as bait," I suggested immediately. "Let them see me, think they have an opportunity."

"Absolutely not," he growled, the wolf close to his surface. "Too dangerous."

"It makes tactical sense," I argued. "They want me. Let them think they can get to me, and your team can take them when they're focused on me rather than their surroundings."

"Eve—"

"I'm not helpless, Caleb," I reminded him. "I'm a werewolf now, with abilities they don't know about. I can sense where everyone is through the pack bonds. I'll know if I'm truly in danger."

He was clearly torn between strategic logic and protective instinct. Finally, he activated his communication device again. "Change of plan," he informed the team. "We're drawing them out. Eve will provide visible distraction while we move in from all sides. Non-lethal takedown if possible—we need them alive for questioning."

The response came back as a series of brief acknowledgments. Caleb turned to me, his expression deadly serious. "You stay within my sight at all times. At the first sign that things are going wrong, you shift and run. Your wolf is faster than any human could hope to be."

I nodded, adrenaline beginning to course through my veins. "What do I do?"

"Walk past the cabin, as if you're lost or exploring. Make noise—enough to draw their attention but not so much that it seems deliberate. When they come out to investigate, keep moving slowly, drawing them away from the cabin and into our perimeter."

The plan was simple but effective. I removed my dark jacket, leaving the white sweater beneath more visible in the moonlight. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I began walking through the forest at an angle that would take me past the cabin's front door, deliberately stepping on twigs and rustling branches.