Micah hadn’t been kidding, the North Packhouse was locked up tight. Guards were stationed at every corner, their eyes tracking every movement. It was so heavily secured that one might mistake it for the president’s residence.
It took over thirty minutes before they finally reached the North Packhouse. Along the way, Griffin had been forced to stop for some impromptu shopping and buy clothes that would fit Violet’s current form.
Technically, she wasn’t Violet right now. She was Oscar, Griffin’s beta.
And gods, it was weird.
Violet was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was currently juggling a dick between her legs. A freak accident, one she knew she was never going to recover from mentally.
She was just grateful Griffin had stopped teasing her about her awkward walking stance. Now that she’d gotten used to it, she had fully embraced her temporary identity.
When they finally stepped inside the packhouse, Violet was struck by how empty it felt. The halls were quiet and for a moment she wondered if Zara had deliberately sent all the pack members away. Or maybe the North’s packhouse was simply different.
Traditionally, a packhouse was meant to house the most important members of the pack — the Alpha, their family, the Beta, Gamma, and other key wolves — so that leadership could remain close and united, ready to act at a moment’s notice. It was the heart of the pack’s territory, and always always buzzing with activity.
Times had changed, of course. Most wolves now lived in their own homes scattered across the territory, districts and the packhouse functioned more like a political center and stronghold than a communal home.
But still, no packhouse ever felt this empty.
As they crossed into a massive foyer, Griffin suddenly turned to her, or rather, to Oscar.
"Wait here," he ordered.
The guard leading them stopped, frowning slightly in confusion.
"I want to speak with Zara privately," Griffin explained.
The guard gave a short nod, clearly not suspicious, and led Griffin further inside.
Now Violet was left alone with two silent guards who stood at the far end of the room. They didn’t even speak or look at her. They just stood there like statues, which suited Violet perfectly.
She used the moment to study her surroundings. The foyer was grand, with towering pillars and two sweeping staircases leading up to the higher levels. Multiple hallways branched off in different directions. Violet mentally mapped them out, taking note of the narrow corridor to the east that would lead to the servants’ wing, another hallway toward the west that seemed less guarded.
Five minutes ticked by. Violet intentionally shifted her weight restlessly. Finally, one of the guards’ eyes landed on her.
"What’s wrong?" he asked stiffly.
Violet crossed her legs dramatically and grimaced. "Uh... bathroom? I really need to piss."
The two guards exchanged a look, clearly baffled by the request. It was as if they couldn’t believe she was asking about something like that in a place like this.
When they didn’t respond, Violet exaggeratedly reached for her zipper.
"Fine, I’ll just take a piss right here—"
"Whoa, whoa, no!" one of them barked, panic breaking his stone-cold demeanor.
He shot a glare at his companion. "Kelvin, show him to the bathroom. Now!"
Kelvin muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed, but stepped forward. "Fine. Follow me."
Violet hid a triumphant smile, obediently following after him.
From the structure of the hallway and the lack of decorative touches, Violet guessed they were headed toward the servants’ wing. A visitor’s bathroom would have been near the main hall, but this route was quieter.
They stopped in front of the door and
Kelvin opened it and jerked his chin toward the inside.
"Go ahead. I’ll wait here," he commanded her.
Violet forced a stiff nod and stepped inside. The restroom was small, and she shut the door halfway, making a show of shuffling around as if she was getting comfortable.
From behind, Violet could hear Kelvin’s stance relax as he leaned against the wall.
That was what she needed.
Violet moved fast. She swung the door open and lunged at him. Kelvin’s eyes widened at the sudden attack, but he reacted just in time, blocking her first strike.
They slammed into the wall, the impact rattling the sink. Kelvin was strong as a man. He twisted his body, throwing Violet against the tiles so hard her breath whooshed out.
"You little—" he snarled, reaching for her throat.
But her instincts screamed otherwise.
Alaric had been here.
His scent was everywhere, so potent and overwhelming it nearly choked her. Only now, fully tuned into her werewolf senses, did Violet truly understand just how sharp a wolf’s abilities were. Alaric had clearly spent time here. So where was he?
A chill went through Violet as another possibility struck like lightning. Had Zara somehow sensed their arrival and moved him?
Something was very, very wrong.
Violet was still trying to piece it together, when—
BOOM!
A loud explosion thundered through the packhouse, the sound rattling the windows and sending her heart into her throat. Violet staggered back, then rushed to the window, yanking the curtains aside.
Her breath caught at the sight of a plume of dark smoke curling up into the pale winter sky. The blast had come from somewhere within the compound.
What was going on?
At the same time, inside her mind, Thalia began pacing restlessly, a growl building in her chest.
"We need to go there," her wolf snarled urgently.
Violet didn’t need further convincing, she bolted out of the empty room at once.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one investigating the disturbance.
As she rounded a corner, she nearly slammed straight into a group of guards rushing in the opposite direction. They froze, blocking her path. Their gazes swept over her, confusion etched on their faces. Then their eyes shifted past her to Alaric’s open door and realization dawned instantly in their expressions.
"Shit," Violet cursed under her breath.
And then she ran.
This mission had just gone to hell.

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