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“The wolves who were at the border were hiding their scent. How is that possible?” Alaric inquired, tilting his head.
Myla bit her bottom lip. “Dealings with witches are a lot more common than you’d think among the unsanctioned packs. It’s how they survived after the Council cut off their resources.”
“They bought scent blocker?” Valor asked.
“Traded for it,” Myla corrected.
Her statement sucked all the air out of the room. Were the sanctioned packs the only ones abiding by the treaty?
“What does a witch trade for?” Alpha Wynn asked.
Myla’s eyes grew sorrowful. “A wolf.”
My wolf growled in response. There was no good reason for a witch to want a shifter, and it was unthinkable for an Alpha to trade away one of his packmates.
From the glacial look in Alpha Wynn’s eyes, he thought the same.
“How many fighters does he have in his ranks?” Bishop asked.
“When I left, there were one hundred and fifty. And with their rogue allies, they’re two hundred strong.”
Fuck. That was way more than we anticipated. With those numbers, they could easily gain the upper hand in combat. Hidden Creek had about seventy battle-ready Enforcers. Though we had some of the best fighters in our ranks, the size of their infantry was a problem.
“You said the females risked their lives to help you escape.” Alpha Wynn furrowed his brow. “Why did you run?”
I was waiting for that question. The Blood Moon pack was undeniably corrupt, but leaving the only place Myla had ever known was an act of desperation.
Myla stiffened, and her eyes dulled at the memory. I placed my hand over hers, offering what little reassurance I could.
Her voice was raw when she answered. “I was coming into heat. Alpha Kane spent the last few years waiting for it, promising a pack rut when the time came. The other females came together and found a way to get me out. I escaped at night while everyone was occupied in the dining hall.”
Splintering anger pushed my wolf to the border of our minds. Red flooded my vision. The Blood Moon wolves thought she was theirs. They had sought to take her, breed her against her will.
A pack rut was the equivalent of a forced mating. The female would be isolated and bred by several virile males until a seed took root.
“Are there any other Omegas in the Blood Moon pack?” Alaric asked.
“One. She’s fifteen,” Myla said softly.
Alaric cursed. Bishop leaned over and whispered something to Alpha Wynn, who nodded and settled his ice-blue gaze on Myla.
“How does Blood Moon have Omegas?” Alpha Wynn asked.
“The same way they have any females in the pack. They steal them when they raid sanctioned packs,” Myla said. “Or they trick lone wolves into believing they’ve found a safe place like they did with my mother. Then, once the Omega is on pack lands, they kill the parents.”
His expression was thoughtful as he absorbed the information. “Thank you, Myla. You’ve been a great help today.”
Alpha Wynn dismissed us, and Alaric and Bishop remained behind as we left.
The most concerning thing we had learned was the number of Blood Moon fighters. Were all unsanctioned packs so large?
One thing was clear: if we planned to face our foe, we would need allies.
The walk back to the house was quiet. Bowen stayed at headquarters to finish his shift, and Gentry went to the security building to ready a fortified line of communication between the Hidden Creek and Sliver Fang on Alpha Wynn’s orders.
Theron and I positioned ourselves on either side of Myla as we walked home. Something was on her mind—something that had her retreating into herself. She said she didn’t mind recalling her past, but I knew that wasn’t entirely true. Whether we believed in what we were doing or not, there would always be choices that haunted us.
We entered our den before I broke the silence.
