Page 29 of Ruthless Reign

Daxton nods. "But we also need to assume that they worked out a rough window of time. If they know that Stevens contacted us, they will be able to roughly pinpoint how long it would take us from that moment to travel there."

Maverick's face hardens. "We also can't dismiss the possibility that they have eyes on the surrounding land, looking out for us. Our weakness right now is not numbers, but our ability to communicate between packs. They will be able to alert their pack of our distance away, whereas we will enter blind. They won't be standing there waiting—they will hide until they have us in position."

"The best thing we can do is have a circle of eyes," I say. "Have our packs be on the lookout as we approach. If we know what we are searching for, we might be able to see the wolves staking out the area. They might be able to alert the New Moon Pack, but it will give us time to brace."

"If it was happening on my land, I wouldn't attack straight away," Maverick states. "I'd let them travel in further so they wouldn't have the chance to run."

"So, we run on that strategy. They will wait for us to move deeper into their territory before they attack—likely from multiple angles. We should try to space out once we are over the border," Daxton says, looking over at the scattered packs and mentally recalculating numbers.

I glance with him, taking in the large group. "We should reposition everyone. Put our better fighters on the outside, set up a stronger resistance. Perhaps when we separate, we do it in packs."

Maverick nods in agreement. "We can each take the lead for our own respective groups. Wyatt, what do you think?" he asks as the remaining alpha joins us.

"We continue into formation over the border," he adds. "Then, once we are well and truly into their territory, branch off intoindividual packs. Two can space out and form a wider radius, while the other two stay inside as the front defense."

"That's a good suggestion. The middle packs can deal with the brunt of a likely attack from New Moon. But since we believe they will also attack from the sides, the other two packs can cover those areas," Daxton adds.

I cross my arms, looking between them. "Branch off based on our current position. Daxton and Wyatt can take the outside point, while Maverick and I will handle the frontline."

Everyone agrees, verbally going over their pack numbers before we pull our members aside, briefly them individually. We start directing our own packs, assigning roles and positions once we switch up our tactic and space out. I decide to place Mason and Knox on the outside, while directing Beau to remain in the center with me. That way, if I'm taken out or preoccupied, he will be able to keep an eye on everything and will be able to shoot off orders. Knox might be my right-hand man, but Beau is my brother by blood. If anyone knows how I think and operate, it's him—we share the same natural instincts.

And having Knox on the outside is the key. He's fast and stealthy and can catch movement long before others. His ability to anticipate an opponent's next move will be our strong point. Knox and Mason are two of my strongest members, so I know they will protect the pack from the outside—and Knox will be able to mind link us to keep us in the loop about which direction attacks are coming from.

Once we're all ready, we start to shift back one by one, having the last few members re-tie our backpacks with our clothes and belongings around the couriers. Then, we line up back into four rows, ready to continue on to the New Moon territory. We've agreed to communicate by howls, with Daxton and Wyatt set to look out for any wolves that may be waiting for us outside the territory. They will see us before we see them, so howling willnot only let us know that they have spotted us and are lurking around, but it will also warn the New Moon Pack that we are prepared to fight.

I can already taste blood on my lips, my veins pumping. I don't care how many wolves I have to rip apart to get to Nyx. I'll do whatever it takes.

We're coming, my Luna. And then, I'm never letting you out of my sight again.

Chapter Twelve

Nyx

"I'm not an item that can be bought or auctioned off," I snap back. "I'm my own person, and I say where I go and who I go with."

Cade stares at me, his light eyes carefully scanning my face, taking in my heated response.

"We'll see," he murmurs, standing up. "I can be very persuasive, remember?"

I push to my feet, glaring at him. All the previous anger and hatred I felt for him has come rushing back. Even if I believe what he says about not being responsible for the attacks and Tyler's death, and his bullshit excuse about taking wolves to help find their mates, all of that has been undone by the inference that I'm just a possession up for grabs.

I'd never leave Lex behind. I love him, more than I ever thought possible. Even more so because he was the one who had to struggle with the fact I was mated to more than one wolf. He didn't have time to prepare, and even when he defended me, staking a claim as my mate, he still made the effort to learn tobeokay with it. It took time, but when I accidentally lost control in the woods with Maverick, he didn't walk away from me.

So, I'm sure as fuck am not going to just walk away from him because this asshole thinks he has some twisted ownership on my existence that can be negotiated.

"I don't care how persuasive you think you are," I shoot back. "I'm not going to leave behind who I love. I'm not a parcel of land that you can fight over. Besides, in what damn universe do you think I would want you? You kidnapped me—well, not evenyou. You sent your people to take me—not even man enough to come get me yourself. I have no desire to be mated to a coward, a liar, or a thief."

Cade smiles warmly at my outburst. "And which of those do you think I am?"

"All of them," I answer quickly. "And the fact that you can sit here, treating me like a toy is disgusting. I'm a Luna. Even if you can't grasp the fact that I'm not yours, you need to respect me."

The words are falling from my lips so fast that I barely have time to register anything. I'm blinded by burning rage, the temperature rising as my body shakes with anger. My fists curl by my sides, the desire to inflict harm on him growing more and more by the minute.

He's so calm and collected about the whole situation, leading me to believe that there's an unspoken danger brewing. He knows that they are coming, and the thought makes me sick.

I can't believe anything he says. Negotiate? That sounds like a bullshit term for violence. For all I know he's lying and fully intends to take me against my will.

"Sit down, Nyx," he says coolly. "Make another coffee or something—if you can resist the urge to fling another mug at my head."

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