Page 10 of Broken Forced Mate
Dorian Fields, alpha leader of Ambersky, steeples his fingers. His brown hair is shorter than I remember from his last visit, and there’s a new scar on his left hand that wasn’t there before. Marriage and fatherhood have changed him, added weight to his shoulders that comes with protecting not just a pack, but a growing family. “What kind of timeline are we looking at?”
“Hard to say,” I admit. “They’re being methodical. Mapping every approach, taking note of resources, and documenting defensive positions. This could take weeks or months.”
“Or they could already have everything they need,” Aidan Grayhide points out from his position near the window. Despite sharing the Grayhide name, Aidan’s not technically part of our pack anymore. He chose to remain unaffiliated after declining the alpha leadership role three years ago, but his insights are still valuable, and Oren trusts his judgment.
Emin Argent adjusts himself in his seat. As a council member, he brings a different perspective than the alpha leaders, one focused on practical implementation rather than grand strategy. “The question is what they want. Territory? Resources? Revenge for some past slight?”
“My money’s on the Amanzite,” Ash comments from her chair beside Oren. She looks tired. The past few weeks of increased security measures have been hard on everyone, but especially on the luna, who’s been using her psychic abilities to help gather information. Her claircognizant abilities have grown stronger as of late, but the constant use takes its toll.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Oren grumbles as he rubs his forehead. “The discovery of that deposit changed everything for both our packs. Made us targets.”
The Amanzite discovery was accidental. A sinkhole opened in Oren and Ash’s backyard, revealing deposits that could supply both packs for generations. What should have been a blessing has instead painted targets on all our backs.
Kira Argent nods from her seat across the table. Her red-gold hair is braided today, and she’s holding a steaming mug of tea that’s probably gone cold during the meeting. As Luna ofAmbersky, she understands the burden of protecting something that others covet. “The Amanzite reserves have brought prosperity, but they’ve also attracted attention from packs who want what we have.”
“Which brings us back to the central question,” Dorian states. “Do we wait for them to make the first move, or do we act preemptively?”
“Acting without provocation could destabilize the entire region,” warns Veva Marone from her spot at the table. As both a caster and someone with clairsentient abilities, she’s been invaluable in detecting supernatural threats. The synthetic Amanzite she helped create years ago may have had its problems, but her magical innovations continue to benefit both packs.
Emaline Smyth nods in agreement. Her psychic abilities have also strengthened with training, making her another crucial asset in our intelligence network. “If we attack first, we become the aggressors. That could turn potential allies against us.”
“But if we wait too long, we might lose the advantage of knowing they’re coming,” Aidan counters. “Surprise has value in warfare.”
The debate continues with voices rising and falling as different perspectives clash. I’ve heard these arguments before, in various forms, during other crises. The balance between caution and action, diplomacy and force, protecting what we have and avoiding unnecessary conflict.
But my mind keeps drifting to Raegan, safely away from all this in Llewelyn territory. At least there’s one member of the Blacklock family I don’t have to worry about. The thought brings both relief and pain—relief that she’s out of danger, pain thatI’m the reason she’s not here to contribute her own considerable intelligence to our planning.
“The border patrols have been increased,” I continue, bringing the discussion back to practical matters. “Jay and Theo are coordinating surveillance rotations with twelve-hour overlaps. We’ll know if Thornridge makes any aggressive moves.”
“What about our allies?” Oren asks. “Have we reached out to the other packs in the region?”
“I’ve sent messages to the major territories,” Dorian confirms. “Most are willing to share intelligence, but they’re reluctant to commit to any military action without more concrete evidence of Thornridge’s intentions.”
“Understandable,” Emin replies. “Nobody wants to get drawn into a conflict that might not materialize. The economic costs alone could destabilize smaller packs.”
“The problem is that by the time we have concrete evidence, it might be too late,” I point out. “If Thornridge is planning something big, they won’t give us advance warning.”
Ash moves just a bit, but something about the movement catches my attention. She’s gone very still, and her usual animated gestures have stopped mid-motion. Her eyes have taken on that distant look I’ve learned to recognize over the years.
“Ash?” Oren notices, too. “You okay?”
She doesn’t respond. Her breathing has changed; it’s become shallow and rapid. The mug in her hands starts to tremble, and I watch droplets of tea splash onto the conference table.
“Everyone, stay calm,” Emaline urges, recognizing the signs before the rest of us. “She’s having a vision.”
The room goes silent. We’ve all seen Ash experience visions before, but they’re never comfortable to watch. Her psychic abilities have grown stronger over the years, but stronger visions often mean more traumatic content.
Ash’s eyes go completely unfocused as she stares at something none of us can see. Her lips move, silently at first, then words start to come out in fragments.
“Shadows,” she whispers. “So many shadows. Deception everywhere, layers upon layers of lies.”
Oren reaches for her hand, but Veva holds up a warning finger. “Don’t touch her during a vision. It can cause feedback loops.”
“What are you seeing?” Oren asks.
“Danger,” Ash continues, her voice distant and hollow. “Surrounded by danger, but she can’t see it. The threat is right there, wearing a friendly face, but underneath…”
My blood chills when she uses the feminine pronoun. In our inner circle, there are only a few women who would prompt such a strong vision. And I have a sinking feeling that I know who she’s talking about.
