Chase’s POV
The moon was a thin sickle, barely enough light to see by. Perfect.
I left the estate at 1:42 a.m.—no fanfare, no goodbye kiss that might wake Amelia. She already knew. She’d helped me strap the knee brace tighter than usual, kissed the corner of my mouth, and said only, “Come back whole.” I’d promised I would.
Rafe drove. Marcus rode shotgun. Two more betas—Jase and Lena—in the back. No full pack. No howling war party. Just five of us, black tactical gear, silenced weapons, and the kind of quiet that comes before something irreversible.
The staging camp sat three miles past the northern markers—old logging road, abandoned cabin, two supply trucks parked under camouflage netting. Loyalists loyal to Dmitri’s memory, funded by whatever remained of Lucy’s offshore accounts. Th
