Chapter 8 THE NETWORK

Kael's POV

The rain hammered against the cabin roof as I watched Isabel and her mother plan the impossible. They moved between documents and maps with synchronized intensity that made their relationship obvious despite twenty years of separation. Marcus added tactical observations while Logan stood in the corner, bleeding from wounds he refused to let anyone treat and watching Isabel with the kind of hunger that made me want to break his jaw.

"Kael," Isabel said without looking up from the ward schematics, "how many of your network can you mobilize in three days?"

I thought through my network's roster, mentally sorting by capability and trustworthiness. "Depends on what you need them for. If this is a suicide mission, maybe ten who are crazy or desperate enough. If you can sell them on actual victory, maybe thirty."

"I need fighters, scouts, and at least two people who understand magical wards well enough to disrupt them without triggering alarms," Isabel said, finally looking up with those sharp violet eyes. "Can your people do that?"

"I have three former pack warriors who were exiled for questioning orders, they can fight. Two omegas who worked in magical research before they disappeared, they understand words. And one human named Dante who's better with technology than anyone I've ever met."

"A human?" Logan said, speaking for the first time since delivering his intelligence. "This is supernatural business."

"This human hacked into pack communication systems and discovered your secret meetings with council sympathizers," I shot back. "He's the reason I knew you were compromised before Isabel did. Don't underestimate him because he lacks fangs."

Logan's gray eyes narrowed but he didn't argue further.

"Bring everyone you trust to the coordinates Marcus will give you," Isabel said, already moving to the next problem. "We will meet tomorrow night to finalize the plan. And Kael, be sure you trust them. One informant in our group and we're all dead."

The weight of that responsibility settled on my shoulders but I nodded and slipped outside into the rain, needing distance from the suffocating intensity of that cabin. I pulled out my phone and after three tries, the call connected.

"Kael," Dante's voice came through crackling with static. "Tell me you're not about to do something catastrophically stupid."

"Define catastrophic."

"Anything involving the Primordial Council, staged rescues, or that Alpha who rejected his mate and thinks he can just apologize his way back into her life."

"All three, actually."

Dante swore creatively in three languages. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"I need your help," I said, cutting through his complaints. "Full surveillance package, communication encryption, and anything you have on the detention facility where they're holding Lysander Cross."

The line went quiet for a moment. "That facility is a black site even by supernatural standards. The only reason I know it exists is because I tracked prisoner transports through satellite imagery."

"Can you get us floor plans?"

"Maybe. But Kael, even if you break in, the place is warded against magical interference. Your pack bonds won't work inside and your abilities will be suppressed. You'll be fighting as close to humans as a werewolf can get."

"Then it's a good thing we're bringing someone who specializes in disrupting magical wards."

"This isn't a joke," Dante said harshly. "If this goes wrong, if any of your people turn out to be informants, we're not just risking our lives. We're handing the council proof that humans and supernaturals are cooperating, which will justify every paranoid fear they've been cultivating for centuries."

"Understood. And Dante, thank you."

"Thank me for staying alive long enough to buy the first round when this is over."

The call disconnected and I stood in the rain, feeling the weight of what we were attempting. Isabel's voice came from behind me and I turned to find her standing in the cabin doorway, wrapped in one of Elara's shawls against the cold.

"You look like you're planning your own funeral," she said.

"Maybe I am. This plan is insane, Isabel. Even with perfect execution, the odds of all of us surviving are maybe thirty percent."

"I know," she said quietly. "But if we don't try, if we let the council execute Lysander and continue operating in the shadows, how many more people will die? How many more omegas disappear?"

She moved closer and I caught her scent beneath the rain, wild and complex and utterly unique. "I'm sorry for lying about why I found you, for letting you believe our connection was chance when Logan engineered our meeting, for every manipulation disguised as rescue."

Isabel studied my face with those penetrating violet eyes. "Are you sorry you did it or sorry you got caught?"

"Both," I admitted. "I'm sorry I hurt you but I'm not sorry you're alive or that you're here planning rebellion instead of dead in that forest."

"I'm not destroyed," Isabel said, and there was steel beneath the softness. "I'm angry and betrayed and terrified but I'm not destroyed. And Kael, if we're going to work together, if we're going to trust each other with our lives, I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"No more lies. No more manipulation for my own good. If you have information, you share it. If you disagree with my choices, you say so."

"I promise," I said. "No more lies between us."

Thunder cracked overhead and somewhere in the distance, I heard howling. Not friendly wolves, not my network, something else tracking us through the storm.

"We need to move," I said, my combat instincts flaring to life. "The cabin's location is compromised."

Isabel's eyes widened and she spun back toward the door. "Mom! Logan! Marcus! We have company!"

The cabin exploded into motion and I scanned the tree line, counting the approaching howls. At least eight, maybe more, professional hunters moving with coordination and purpose.

"Council operatives," I said grimly. "They found us faster than Marcus predicted.”