The dock stretched out into darkness, the estate lights behind us fading to pinpricks. Evie sat beside me with her legs dangling over the edge, a wine bottle between us. She'd grabbed it from the bar on our way out, hadn't even bothered with glasses.
"You saved me today," she said, her words slightly slurred. "No one does that."
I took the bottle when she passed it and drank. The wine was expensive, smooth. Wasted on this moment. "They were being cruel."
"They're always cruel." Evie laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You just don't usually see it aimed at ranked wolves. Gamma's mate still counts for something. Usually."
I handed the bottle back. Waited.
She drank again, longer this time. When she lowered the bottle, her shoulders had slumped. "Dalton's sleeping with someone new. A Delta from the training corps. I smelled her on him last week."
My chest tightened. "Evie—"
"It's fine." Her voice was flat now, stripped of the performance she'd been maintaining all weekend. "It's always someone. Has been for years. I stopped counting."
The waves lapped against the dock pilings below us. Rhythmic. Relentless.
"Why do you stay?" I asked quietly.
She turned to look at me, and in the moonlight I could see the exhaustion written across her face. "Because I chose this. I chose the rank, the house, the life. I chose to look away the first time, and the second, and after that it just became what we were." She took another drink. "You can't unmake a choice like that without losing everything you built on top of it."
I said nothing. My wolf was listening, utterly still.
Evie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You know they picked you, right?"
My heart stuttered. "What?"
"Like, specifically picked you." She wasn't looking at me anymore, just staring out at the dark water. "Bradley and Victoria. They've been fucking since they were teenagers. Everyone knows. Well—everyone except Vincenzo, obviously, because if he knew, there'd be a war."
The world tilted. I gripped the edge of the dock.
"The Spencer elders needed Bradley to take a public mate," Evie continued, her voice steady in that terrible way drunk confessions are steady. "Someone legitimate enough to satisfy tradition but powerless enough not to ask questions. A grateful Omega from a struggling pack who'd be so thrilled to be chosen she'd never look too closely at what she was actually chosen for."
I couldn't breathe. My wolf wasn't howling. She was coiled, silent, watching.
"You're a shield," Evie said simply. "A PR move. If Vincenzo ever gets suspicious about where Victoria spends her nights, the Spencer elders can point to Bradley's perfect public mating and say, 'See? He's devoted to his fated mate. Whatever you're imagining, it's not real.'"
The wine bottle sat between us, forgotten.
"How long have you known?" My voice came out steadier than I expected.
Evie shrugged. "Since the engagement announcement. Dalton told me. He thought it was funny." She finally looked at me again, and her eyes were wet. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I just—I'm a coward. And I thought maybe you'd be happier not knowing."
"Happier," I repeated.
She flinched. "I know how that sounds."
I stood slowly. My legs felt distant, disconnected. Evie looked up at me, something like fear crossing her face.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For telling me."
"Emma—"
"I mean it." I reached down and squeezed her shoulder once. "Thank you."
I walked back down the dock toward the estate. My steps were measured. Calm. Behind me, I heard Evie start to cry—soft, broken sounds that the wind carried away.
I made it to my room without seeing anyone. Locked the door. Sat on the edge of the bed with my worn notebook open in my lap.
My wolf was still silent. Not grieving. Not raging. Just... waiting.
I picked up my pen.
For weeks, I'd been writing observations. Patterns. Small inconsistencies I'd noticed and filed away. Now I turned to a blank page and wrote something different.
Not questions. Not suspicions.
A plan.
I wrote for two hours. Methodical. Precise. Every step mapped from beginning to end. The cameras. The timing. The mating contract distraction. The ceremony itself.
When I finally set the pen down, my hand was cramping. But the page was full.
I read it through once. Twice. Looking for holes.
There were none.
I closed the notebook and pressed my thumbnail into my palm until the crescent mark burned.
Two more weeks.
I was going to need Kevin.
---
Kevin arrived at Silvercrest three days later, his truck pulling up to the service entrance just after dawn. I'd told Bradley my brother wanted to help with pre-ceremony family preparations—arranging Dusthaven delegation accommodations, reviewing the seating logistics. Bradley had barely looked up from his tablet when he'd approved it.
"Whatever makes you happy," he'd said, kissing my forehead.
I'd smiled. Thanked him. Pressed my thumbnail into my palm the moment he looked away.
Now Kevin stood in the service kitchen with Lena, Marcus, and me, a duffel bag at his feet. His eyes met mine, and I saw the question there.
I nodded once.
He unzipped the bag.
The cameras were smaller than I'd expected—barely larger than a button, with wireless feeds that would transmit to a dedicated receiver. Kevin had ordered them through an online forum, paid in cash, had them shipped to a P.O. box three towns over.
"The east wing suite," I said quietly. "Third door on the left past the service corridor junction."
Marcus cleared his throat. "Training run starts in twenty minutes. Whole pack'll be gone for at least two hours. That's your window."
Lena handed Kevin a master key card. "Service access. Won't show in the digital log if you use the back stairwell."
Kevin took the card, looked at me. "You sure about this?"
I met his eyes. My wolf was utterly calm.
"Yes."
He nodded. Shouldered the duffel. "Then let's do it."
We waited until the training horn sounded. Through the kitchen window, I watched the ranked wolves stream out toward the forest trail—Bradley at the front, his aura commanding even from a distance. Victoria ran beside him, her stride easy and confident.
When the last wolf disappeared into the trees, Kevin moved.
I stayed in the kitchen with Lena and Marcus, my hands busy folding linens I didn't see. My wolf tracked time with predator focus. Eighteen minutes. Twenty-three. Thirty-one.
Kevin returned at thirty-four minutes, his face calm but his scent carrying the sharp edge of adrenaline.
"Done," he said quietly. He handed me a burner phone. "Feed's live. Passcode is your birthday."
I took the phone. It was warm from his pocket.
"Emma." His voice dropped lower. "Once you do this, there's no taking it back."
"I know."
He studied my face for a long moment. Then he pulled me into a hug, quick and fierce.
"I'll be at Dusthaven," he said into my hair. "When you need me."
I nodded against his shoulder. Felt the small weight of my silver earrings—his gift—press against my skin.
He pulled back. Squeezed my shoulders once. Then he grabbed his duffel and left through the service entrance, his truck pulling away just as the first wolves started returning from the run.
I slipped the burner phone into my pocket.
Lena touched my arm briefly. "Be careful."
I met her eyes. Saw the understanding there.
"I will," I said.
I walked back through the service corridors toward the main house, my fingers brushing the phone's outline through the fabric.
In two weeks, the Mate Ceremony would begin.
And I was going to burn it all down.
