Chapter Six: The Wolf in the Dark

Kael

No wolf walked into my territory with treachery in their heart and left alive.

If they did, it meant I hadn’t seen them.

And that never happened.

But tonight, one did.

She crossed my threshold, and in that instant, she became mine.

Her scent hit me the moment she slipped through the ward that sealed the Obsidian, moss and river fog, wild and untamed. Not a trace of fear. No submission. She walked into my den as if she belonged. That was her first mistake.

Spies always underestimated the Thorn brothers. And she was a spy, I could feel it in my blood.

If she came to dismantle what we built, she’d leave in chains. Or in pieces.

Our informant at the ACSC had whispered of a move against us. Details were hazy, but the intent was clear. They would try to use temptation, the kind that came wrapped in silk and soft skin. They thought they could unravel us with a woman.

They didn’t understand me.

I was not a man undone by flesh. I was predator. I hunted, I tamed, I devoured.

And now, my eyes were set on her.

The crowd parted as I made my way toward the mezzanine, wolves, betas, enforcers melting aside instinctively. I carried no crown, but power radiated from me like heat, and they felt it. I stopped above the stage, where she was preparing for her first act.

Confident. Clueless.

Already in the wolf’s mouth.

My mouth watered.

Light, to my darkness. But her glow would die.

Silverfang wasn’t built on diplomacy. We weren’t servants to the Council; we broke their rules and rewrote them in blood. The Thorn legacy wasn’t charm, it was order, carved with fear.

Power, in my world, wasn’t about brute strength. It was leverage. Secrets. Control.

And Obsidian?

Obsidian was my confessional. My throne.

Every sin, every betrayal, every desperate act, wolves spilled them here. Alphas thought their filth stayed buried in the dark, but the moment they stepped into my house, they stripped themselves bare.

We ruled Silverfang. Not the Council. Not the ACSC. Us.

Tobias Thorn may have laid the foundation, but it was my brothers and I who fortified it. We didn’t inherit wealth. We weaponised it.

Obsidian was more than a club, it was our fortress, our hunting ground.

And I? I was its architect of shadows.

I didn’t deal in coin. I dealt in cravings. Desire. Loyalty. Fear. Wolves came here and fed their urges, believing themselves anonymous. But freedom had a price, and betrayal had consequences.

They called me ruthless. Dangerous.

They didn’t know the half of it.

I wasn’t just Kael Thorn. I was the fang, the enforcer. I eliminated threats not for business, but for instinct.

The Thorn name was forged in blood and terror. Where others looked to the Council for guidance, the wise looked to us for survival.

And though our father’s health had begun to fail, Tobias’s shadow stretched across every territory, his methods echoing in every alliance, every deal. But I held the reins now.

The Thorn Syndicate wasn’t just a company. It was law. And Obsidian? Our crown jewel. Only the brave or the desperate crossed our gates, and very few left unchanged. Even fewer crossed us twice.

Silverfang was rotten. I was the one feeding it.

But tonight wasn’t about politics. Tonight was about her.

A woman wrapped in silk and lies, pretending to be prey. She thought she could dance unseen. She didn’t know she’d already been marked.

“A full house tonight,” Jaxon’s voice drawled at my shoulder, smooth as ever.

My older brother. The strategist. Always in black. Always counting profits.

“The Alphas are out in force,” I muttered, scanning the mezzanine. “Half the southern territories are here.”

“Council’s in session. They needed an outlet. And Obsidian provides. Rare wine. Bonded flesh. Indulgence without consequence.” He smirked. “Where else would they go?”

“You sound too cheerful.”

“Profits doubled. No audits. For once, Kael, I’m enjoying myself. You should try it.”

Then he was gone, swallowed into the crowd, already making another deal before the glass in my hand cooled.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I should indulge.

But indulgence didn’t quiet the whisper I’d heard, an ACSC raid, nothing confirmed, but silence was the loudest warning in our world. If they stormed Obsidian, even on false grounds, fractures would spread through the empire.

I couldn’t allow that.

I stepped to the bar.

Geena slid a tumbler across, eyes sharp with loyalty. “The new girl’s prepping backstage. Wants to impress.”

I smiled, slow and cold.

She would.

Just not in the way she expected.

The lights dimmed. Music swelled.

Obsidian didn’t just offer indulgence. It offered ritual. Erotic dance stripped to its primal core, refined by discipline, sharpened into art. Every movement was power in motion.

And then she stepped into the light.

She was everything temptation was designed to be, blonde, young, fluid as water. Her body moved with grace, but not hunger. Every step was polished, but too precise. She wasn’t feeding on the rhythm, she was surviving it.

I knew in that instant.

She wasn’t one of mine.

“We need to talk, Kael.”

Malric’s voice growled behind me. My younger brother. The bloodhound. Paranoid, precise, forever sniffing at shadows.

“What now?” I asked, not looking away from the stage.

“We’ve got a problem.”

I sipped the scotch, eyes fixed on her. “Be specific.”

“The spy.”

My lips curved faintly. “Expected.”

His scowl cut through the dark. “Expected? You’ve been sitting on this?”

“I’ve been watching.”

“Watching?” he snapped.

“Eliminating options.”

I’d already flagged her. The résumé she gave our people was flawless, too flawless. The club she claimed to have danced in, Willows Grove? No records. No history. A lie wrapped in silk.

“She’s blonde,” Malric muttered. “Early twenties. Moves like she’s trained, but there’s no sweat in it. She’s dancing to hide, not to feed.”

My gaze sharpened as she dipped, rose again, the crowd roaring. “Exactly.”

“You think she’s ACSC?”

“Could be. Or Worthmore’s little bitch. Or Rikshaw Syndicate, they’ve been sniffing Stonemoor.”

He cursed.

I downed the scotch, savoring the burn. “Whoever she belongs to, she lied.”

And in my world, lies weren’t forgiven.

They were claimed. Broken. Devoured.

And she had just become mine.