Sometimes the enemy isn't the one smiling at you.
The note appeared the next morning, slipped under my door while I slept. No name. No signature. Just words written in careful, deliberate handwriting on expensive paper—the kind with a subtle watermark visible when held to the light streaming through my window.
Miss Bennett,
You don't know me, but I know Gideon Wicke. I know what he's capable of when he wants something. Three years ago, he courted a girl from my pack. Promised her partnership, respect, everything she wanted to hear. She fell for it. Fell for him.
Six months later, she was dead. Officially ruled an accident during training. But everyone in his pack knows the truth. She found out about his real plans. About how he was using her to gain access to her father's territory. When she threatened to expose him, she died.
He's doing the same thing to you. Playing the long game. Making you think he's different from Darius Fenrir. Making you think you have a choice.
