Page 22 of BeWolfed

I studied Oscar, trying to reconcile my instinctive distrust with the evidence before us. His explanation aligned with what we'd observed—his presence at the quarry, his examination of the crystals, his focus on blood magic research. But something still felt off, some aspect of him that didn't match his carefully constructed academic persona.

"Why should we trust you?" I asked directly. "You have access to blood magic knowledge that most academics would never touch. You've infiltrated a corrupted pack operation with suspicious ease. For all we know, you could be setting us up."

Instead of taking offense, Oscar smiled thinly. "Healthy skepticism. I'd expect nothing less from a wolf who's seen what blood magic did to his father's pack."

The casual reference to my past made me stiffen. Few people knew those details—Rose being one of them. Had she shared my history with Oscar?

"Rose trusted me," he continued, seemingly reading my thoughts. "Not blindly—she kept her own insurance policies. The note she left you being one of them." He gestured to Elowen's pocket where Rose's amulet rested. "But she understood that sometimes fighting corruption requires getting close enough to understand it. To counter it effectively."

Through our bond, I felt Elowen's decision forming—not blind trust, but calculated risk assessment. "What exactly do you need from us?"

Oscar unfolded a map of the southern quarry, marking key positions. "The ritual begins at moonrise. By then, I need you and whatever allies you can gather positioned here and here." He indicated entry points on the quarry's eastern edge. "The pack will be focused on the ritual circle. Most of the enforcers will be undergoing their transformation for participation."

"And Rose?" Elowen asked, her concern for her aunt uppermost in her mind.

"She and the other witches will be held here." Oscar pointed to the outbuilding we'd observed. "Spelled containment, but nothing that a witch of your lineage can't break."

The tactical analysis was sound. His knowledge of the security arrangements, the timing of the ritual, the specific magical vulnerabilities—all suggested legitimate inside access.

"I'll reach out to Lola," I said after a moment. "She can bring trustworthy wolves who've resisted the corruption."

"And I'll prepare breaking spells for the containment," Elowen added, committing to the plan despite her lingering reservations that I could sense through our bond.

Oscar nodded, appearing satisfied. "One more thing you should know." His expression grew more serious. "The alpha isn't acting entirely of his own will anymore. The corruption has... changed him. Made him more vessel than leader. When you encounter him, don't expect rational behavior."

"Meaning?" I prompted.

"Meaning he might sacrifice his entire pack to complete the ritual." Oscar's gaze was steady. "He's that far gone."

The warning hung heavy as we finalized details of the extraction plan.

As we prepared to leave, Oscar handed Elowen a small crystal vial containing a swirling silver substance. "For the witches, after you free them. It will help stabilize their magic after the drainage effects of captivity."

Elowen accepted it cautiously. "What is it?"

"A restorative I developed based on Rose's research into magical healing." His expression softened slightly. "She contributed significantly to the formula before her capture."

We left Blackwood Hall with more information but not necessarily more certainty. Oscar's explanation fit the facts we knew, aligned with Rose's cryptic note, and provided a plausible framework for what we'd observed. But something about him remained enigmatic, his motivations not fully transparent despite his apparent cooperation.

"What do you think?" Elowen asked as we crossed the campus, heading back toward the bookstore.

"His plan makes tactical sense," I admitted. "And the information about entities from beyond our reality explains the particular corruption signature I've been tracking. It's not just twisted blood magic—it's something foreign."

"But you still don't trust him," she observed, reading my emotions through our bond.

"There's something he's not telling us." I glanced back at Blackwood Hall, its gothic architecture suddenly seeming more ominous. "Something about himself."

"Rose trusted him enough to collaborate on blood magic research," Elowen reasoned. "And his actions at the quarry match his claim of sabotaging the ritual preparations."

"True. But that doesn't mean his agenda aligns completely with ours." I took her hand as we walked, drawing comfort from the physical connection. "We proceed with the plan, but with our own safeguards in place."

Through our bond, I felt her agreement—not blind trust in Oscar, but pragmatic acceptance of necessary alliance.

"I'll contact Charlotte, see what she knows about his research without revealing too much."

"And I'll reach out to Lola. We'll need at least six wolves to counter the pack enforcers not participating in the ritual."

By the time we reached the bookstore, a plan was taking shape—not just Oscar's extraction strategy, but our own contingencies, backup measures, and safety protocols. Working together through the mate bond created an efficiency I'd never experienced before, our thoughts complementing each other without needing to verbalize every detail.

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