Dan's POV
That midnight
The old war chamber was cold tonight. Damp stone walls, no torches lit. Just the glow of a single lantern on the table. I liked it that way — shadows made men honest. Or at least scared enough to listen.
I leaned against the table, fingers drumming slow. The air smelled of dust, old blood, and something sour. The smell of fear. Good. Let them feel it.
One by one, the fools crept in. My chosen men. Warriors who owed me debts, men Batista had overlooked, or those too stupid to realize what game they were playing. Perfect tools.
Victoria arrived last, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, eyes sharp like a blade. She took her place beside me without a word. That's why I liked her. Dangerous and quiet.
I cleared my throat, and the room went still.
"Brothers," I started, voice smooth as silk. "And sister." I gave Victoria a little smile. She didn't smile back. Good.
"I called you here because the time has come. Batista is weak. He's a fool chasing ghosts while we sit in his shadow, waiting for scraps."
The men shifted, some glancing at each other. Cowards. But cowards could be useful.
"Now," I continued, voice low, "we take what should've been ours. No more begging for his favor. No more bowing. Tonight, we make history."
I could see it in their eyes. Hunger. Fear. Greed. The kind of fire you only needed to spark once.
Victoria stepped forward, pulling out a dagger. Its blade gleamed red in the lantern light.
"Blood binds," she said, holding it out.
One by one, the men came. Each cutting their palm, dripping blood into the old wolf skull on the table.
I watched them swear loyalty. Some muttered it like a prayer. Others like a curse.
"To Alpha Dan," one said.
"To the new reign," another whispered.
It was done.
When the last drop fell, I stepped forward, hand clean.
"You've made the right choice," I told them. "Batista won't see morning."
I saw fear in their faces. Fear of what we were about to do. Good. Fear keeps men loyal.
I picked up the skull, raised it high.
"By blood and bone," I said, "we rise."
They echoed it, voices low and shaky.
I turned to Victoria. She gave me a sharp nod.
It had begun.
And Batista?
That fool didn't even know his crown was already mine.
THE FAREWELL FEAST
The Night Everything Changed (7PM, The Following Day)
This was the night I had been waiting for.
Five years of whispers. Five years of promises made in the dark. Five years of wolves pretending to be loyal while sharpening their blades behind Batista's back.
And now — it was time.
I planned the perfect send-off. I knew how to fool him, how to turn a blade while smiling. The announcement came at dawn.
A grand feast to honor Alpha Batista's family before their journey to Texas.
Even Batista was pleased. I watched him grin like a fool when Victoria kissed his cheek and said, "You deserve a night of joy before the road."
He never saw it coming.
That night, the pack gathered in the courtyard. Bonfires lit the sky, meat roasted over the flames, and barrels of wine were rolled out like gifts from the Moon Goddess herself. I made sure the drinks were strong, the music loud, and the food plenty.
What Batista didn't know was that every cup of wine poured for his loyalists was drugged. Eron handled that part. He slipped the powder into the wine barrels while Victoria distracted the kitchen staff.
"A little something to help them sleep," Eron said with a grin.
As the evening wore on, I moved through the crowd. Laughing. Toasting. Clapping men on the back. Every word I spoke, every handshake, was a lie.
But I was good at lying.
I'd marked every house earlier that afternoon. Victoria had placed colored ribbons — white for death, green for mercy. Only a few homes got green. Most of Batista's supporters would die tonight.
Nobody questioned the decorations. The pack was used to ribbons on doors before journeys, believing it was for luck.
Fools.
As night thickened and the drugged wine took hold, the loyalists began to falter. Warriors slumped at tables. Guards leaned heavy against the walls. Some passed out where they stood.
I made a quiet round through the barracks, watching them groan and cough, clutching their stomachs like drunks.
"Rest, brothers," I whispered to one. "You've earned it."
He didn't even hear me.
Perfect.
Next, the border trick.
I'd sent one of my boys — a scrawny little rogue we caught months ago — out past the ridge, made sure he left signs of a rogue pack moving in. Fresh tracks, some shredded deer. Enough to spook Batista.
Didn't take long.
A scout came tearing into the hall, pale and panting.
"Alpha! Rogues at the east border!"
Batista's face darkened, all Alpha fury. Good. Be angry, fool.
"I'll handle this myself," he growled, grabbing his Gun.
Just like I knew he would.
"I'll watch things here, brother," I said, pretending to care. "We'll keep the fire burning till you come back."
Batista gripped my shoulder.
"You're a good man, Dan."
But as he looked around at the pack, his face darkened.
"What will I do now? Most of my warriors are drunk out of their minds. Some have already passed out."
I held back a smirk.
He still thinks they're drunk. The fool has no idea — most of them are already dead.
"Don't worry," I told him smoothly. "We still have some men standing."
I turned to Trent. "Where are the rest of the boys? I told you all not to drink any alcohol."
"They're here," Trent answered calmly. "And we didn't drink a drop."
I gave Batista a knowing look.
"You see? Not all your men are drunk."
The idiot smiled.
"That's why I trust you, Dan," he chuckled. "Let's go."
As soon as Batista turned his back, I grabbed Trent by the arm and leaned in close, whispering into his ear.
"Make sure you give him the poisoned drink. I want him on his knees in front of me."
Trent nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Don't fail me," I warned.
Batista had no idea — the men with me had already sworn their loyalty to me. He still believed he was their Alpha.
As soon as Batista and the others left the pack to chase after those 'invincible rogue wolves' — wolves that didn't even exist — I knew my time had finally come.
That was our signal.