"Stay behind me," Liam orders. "And whatever you do—don't shift."
Iris followed Liam through the war room, her mind still reeling from everything he'd shown her. Six packs destroyed. All of them small, isolated, bordering Silverpine territory. All of them in the last three years.
"Why?" she asked. "Why would they do this?"
Liam stopped at another table, this one covered in older documents. Parchment, not paper. Some of them looked centuries old. "Because someone is consolidating power. Building an empire." He picked up one of the documents, handling it carefully. "This is a treaty. Written two hundred years ago when the packs first divided this territory. It outlines borders, resources, conflict resolution. Most importantly, it limits how much land any single pack can hold."
"To prevent exactly this," Iris said slowly. "To keep any one pack from becoming too powerful."
"Exactly." Liam set the document down. "But treaties only work if someone enforces them. And the council that used to oversee these matters dissolved fifty years ago. Now we have chaos. Packs expanding unchecked, weak leadership, and opportunists like Derek Winters who see a chance to build something larger."
Iris moved closer to the map, studying the red circles and black marks. "So what's his endgame? How much territory does he want?"
"All of it." Liam's finger traced a line across the map, connecting the destroyed packs. "If he takes three more territories, he'll control the entire eastern corridor. Trade routes, resources, strategic positions. He'll be unstoppable."
"Unless someone stops him first."
Liam smiled, sharp and dangerous. "Now you're thinking like an Alpha."
A knock interrupted them. Dominic entered, his expression grim. "We have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"Border patrol spotted three wolves. Human form, armed, moving through the western woods. They're not from any pack we recognize."
Liam's eyes narrowed. "Mercenaries."
"Looks like it. And they're tracking something. Someone."
Iris's stomach dropped. "They're looking for survivors. From my pack."
"Or they're looking for you specifically." Liam moved toward the door. "How close are they?"
"Two miles from the border. Moving fast."
"Gather a patrol. I want them intercepted before they cross into our territory." Liam glanced back at Iris. "You're coming with me."
"What? Why?"
"Because if they are looking for you, I want to know who sent them." He was already moving, not waiting for her agreement. "And because you need to see how real wolves handle threats."
They armed themselves quickly. Iris took a knife, wishing she had more training with weapons. Liam carried nothing visible, but she didn't doubt he was deadly without tools.
Six wolves joined them, all seasoned fighters. They moved through the forest in silence, following Dominic's lead. The morning sun filtered through the canopy, making everything look deceptively peaceful.
Iris smelled them before she saw them. Three men, human forms, carrying guns and something else. Something chemical that made her nose burn.
"Silver," Liam murmured beside her. "They came prepared for wolves."
They closed in carefully, surrounding the mercenaries without being seen. Iris watched from behind a fallen log as Liam's patrol moved into position. Professional. Coordinated. Nothing like her pack's clumsy defense had been.
Liam stepped out first, blocking the mercenaries' path. "You're on my land."
The three men stopped. The one in front, older with a scar across his jaw, didn't look surprised. "We're just passing through."
"With silver bullets and wolf bane. Sure." Liam's voice was casual, almost bored. "Who hired you?"
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"Wrong answer." Liam nodded once.
His wolves attacked.
It was over in seconds. The mercenaries tried to fight back, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. Liam's people moved like shadows, disarming them before they could fire a shot. Within moments, all three men were on their knees with claws at their throats.
Liam walked forward slowly, studying each man. "I'll ask again. Who hired you?"
Silence.
Liam sighed. "Dominic, start with the fingers."
"Wait!" The scarred man looked up, fear finally showing in his eyes. "We don't know names. Just got a contract. Track and retrieve a female wolf, dark hair, early twenties. Survivor from the Pinewood massacre."
Iris's blood ran cold. Pinewood. Her pack.
"Who issued the contract?" Liam asked.
"Anonymous. Payment came through encrypted channels. But the description was specific. Very specific. Distinctive scar on her left shoulder blade."
Iris's hand instinctively went to her shoulder. The scar from a training accident when she was fifteen. Only pack members would know about it. Only someone close.
"And what were you supposed to do when you found her?" Liam's voice had gone deadly quiet.
"Bring her back alive. No harm. Those were the terms."
"Bring her where?"
The mercenary hesitated. Dominic's claws pressed deeper, drawing blood.
"Southern territory! We were supposed to take her to the old Riverside safe house. Someone would meet us there."
Liam was quiet for a moment, processing. Then he looked directly at Iris's hiding spot. "Come out."
She emerged slowly, hating how every eye turned to her. The mercenaries' expressions shifted from confusion to recognition. They'd found their target.
Liam moved to stand between them and Iris. Protective. Possessive. "This female is under my protection. Anyone who touches her answers to me. Understood?"
The scarred mercenary swallowed hard. "We were just following orders."
"And I'm giving you new ones. Go back to whoever hired you. Tell them if they want her, they can come ask me personally." Liam's smile was terrifying. "I'll be waiting."
He nodded to Dominic. "Let them go."
"Alpha—" Dominic protested.
"Let them go. I want them to deliver the message."
The mercenaries didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled to their feet and ran, crashing through the undergrowth like panicked deer.
Once they were gone, Liam turned to Iris. His expression was unreadable. "Someone knows you survived. Someone with resources and connections. Someone who wants you alive."
"But why?" Iris's voice shook. "Everyone I knew is dead. Who would care if I lived or died?"
"Someone who needs you for something." Liam studied her face like he was seeing her for the first time. "Or someone who's looking for leverage."
"Leverage for what?"
"That's what we're going to find out." He started walking back toward the fortress. "But first, we accelerate your training. If mercenaries are hunting you, we don't have time for slow progress. You need to be able to defend yourself. Now."
They walked in silence for a while. Iris's mind raced with questions. Who had hired those men? How did they know about her scar? What did they want?
And why did the mercenary say "bring her back" instead of "bring her in"? Back implied she'd been somewhere before. Somewhere she was supposed to return to.
"Liam," she said quietly. "What's the Riverside safe house?"
He stopped walking. When he looked at her, something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Or maybe suspicion.
"It's a neutral meeting place. Used for negotiations between packs when they don't trust each other enough to meet on home territory." He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Just wondering why someone would choose there."
But Liam was staring at her now, really staring, like he was trying to read secrets written in her bones. "Have you been there before, Iris? To Riverside territory?"
"I don't think so. We didn't travel much outside our borders."
"You don't think so? Or you don't remember?"
There was something in his tone that made her uncomfortable. Like he suspected something. Like he knew something he wasn't sharing.
"I don't remember," she said firmly. "Should I?"
Liam studied her a moment longer, then turned and kept walking. "No. Forget I asked."
But Iris couldn't forget. Because for just a second, when the mercenary mentioned Riverside, something had stirred in the back of her mind. Not quite a memory. More like an echo. A feeling of familiarity she couldn't explain.
They reached the fortress as the sun reached its peak. Liam dismissed the patrol, then led Iris to a different training area. This one was underground, carved from stone, with weapons lining every wall.
"Stay behind me," Liam ordered. "And whatever you do—don't shift."
"Why not?"
"Because I need you thinking clearly. When your wolf takes over, you fight on instinct. Instinct is useful, but it's not enough. You need control." He selected two practice swords from the wall, tossing one to her. "Now defend yourself."
He attacked without warning. Iris barely got her sword up in time. The impact jarred her arms, nearly knocked the weapon from her hands. Liam didn't pause. He came at her again, faster, harder, relentless.
"Someone wants you alive," he said, his blade a blur. "That makes you valuable. Valuable things get stolen, bartered, used as pawns." He disarmed her effortlessly, the practice sword clattering across the stone floor. "Pick it up."
Iris grabbed the sword, her hands shaking with adrenaline.
"Again."
They trained for hours. Sword work, hand-to-hand combat, tactical thinking. Liam pushed her past exhaustion, past pain, past the point where her body wanted to quit. Every time she fell, he made her stand. Every time she failed, he made her try again.
"Your enemies won't give you mercy," he said, pinning her to the ground for the fourth time. His weight pressed her into the stone, one hand around her throat. Not choking, just holding. "They'll use every advantage. Every weakness. If you want revenge, you need to be stronger than them. Smarter. More ruthless."
His face was inches from hers. She could see gold flecks in his amber eyes. Could feel his breath against her skin.
"Are you ruthless, little wolf?" he whispered. "Or are you still the girl who watched her pack burn?"
Rage exploded through her. Iris brought her knee up hard, catching Liam in the ribs. He grunted, his grip loosening. She twisted, throwing him off balance, and rolled on top of him. Her hands found his throat.
"I'm whoever I need to be," she snarled.
Liam laughed. Actually laughed, even with her fingers pressed against his windpipe. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear."
He flipped their positions effortlessly, pinning her again. But this time he didn't hold her down. He stood and offered his hand.
Iris took it. Let him pull her to her feet.
"Tomorrow we start advanced training," Liam said. "Tracking, infiltration, interrogation. If someone's hunting you, we're going to find out who. And then—" His smile was sharp enough to cut. "We're going to make them regret it."