Page 35 of Sacrifice

“Agreed. He’s a threat to every pack, not just ours,” I add. “This time, we end it. No more playing around.”

“Exactly.” Aisling’s voice is low but resolute, the grey of her eyes darkening like storm clouds on the horizon. “He’s not just some mad scientist—he’s dangerous.”

“Absolutely,” I affirm, squeezing Aisling’s hand before releasing it. “So we need to make sure that we’re armed for every possible scenario. No surprises.”

“Right. What are we packing?” Luka asks, his mind already shifting into tactical mode.

“EMP grenades to knock out any tech defenses Malik’s cooked up. Plus, the usual—firearms with silencers, plenty of ammo. And for close-quarters…” I pause, gauging their reactions, “I’m thinking blades—quiet and deadly.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Luka nods, his eyes scanning the group, making silent assessments. “And body armor?”

“Lightweight but strong. We need mobility if we have to move fast.” The practical concerns start forming a checklist in my head. “We’ll raid the armory after breakfast.”

“Got it.” Luka agrees, then leans forward, elbows on the table, lowering his voice. “What about contingencies? If things go sideways?”

“Two teams—one front, one back. If anyone gets pinned down, the other sweeps in,” I suggest, watching his reaction closely.

“Signal jammers too, cut their comms off from the outside world.” Luka adds, tapping his finger thoughtfully on the tabletop. “We can’t afford any leaks or calls for backup.”

“Good call.” I nod with approval. “We’ll also need a safe extraction point, somewhere we can regroup if we need to retreat and reassess.”

“Escape routes, check.” Aisling interjects, her strategic side surfacing. “But let’s not forget non-lethals, just in case we need to take someone alive for intel.”

“Stun guns and tranqs, then.” I confirm, impressed by her foresight.

“Exactly.” She flashes me a quick smile, her grey eyes sharp.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up.” I glance around the table, seeing nods of agreement. But Gunnar, always the protector, wears a frown that speaks volumes.

“Hey,” Gunnar starts, leaning back in his chair with a creak, “We’re talking heavy fire here. Are we really ready for this? Our pack, going head-to-head with Malik’s goons? It’s not just about being armed to the teeth.”

I catch Luka’s eye, and there’s a momentary flicker of uncertainty before he masks it with determination. “Gunnar has a point. It’s one thing to plan, another to face live rounds whizzing past your ears.”

“Look,” I say, voice firm as steel, “we’ve all seen some hellish stuff. But this is different. This is personal. And Inari offered us all the resources we need, right? Manpower, supplies, weapons…” I pause, looking at every single one of my pack—Aisling, Gunnar, Oberon, Luka. “We’ve got to do this. Not just for us, but for everyone who’s suffered under Malik’s experiments. We’ve been through worse and come out on top.”

“Exactly,” Aisling says. “We train hard until it’s go time. We know what we’re walking into…and I want Malik dead and eros off the streets—for good this time.”

For a moment, the room falls quiet, everyone lost in their own tactical musings. It’s then I realize we’ve skirted around one particular issue.

My gut tightens.

“Before we end this,” I begin, feeling all eyes pivot back to me, “there’s one more thing—Vance.”

The tension in the room changes, becomes heavier. Vance Solace, the wildcard. Hopelessly tangled with Aisling’s heartstrings and now, a potential threat with too many unknowns.

“If we truly intend on bringing Nero into the pack, Vance will already be suspicious, and his paranoia has reached dangerous heights as it is,” I tell them. “I met with him the other night, and he’s…well, he’s on the brink. All our safety could be on the line once Nero is one of us.”

Gunnar shakes his head. “That’s all true, but I have no fucking idea what to do about him. I hate him, but…he’s my half-brother, a friend of you and Luka. We can’t just take him out—especially because we could never bring the Angels into line if we did.”

“Exactly,” I say. “But this raid might give us the cover we need to take him out of play.”

Luka cocks his head. “What are you suggesting?”

“Stage his death?” Oberon suggests, with a certain coldness that suggests he’s already considered the option.

“Controlled, convincing,” I clarify. “It would shake the Angels and rally them around Gunnar, give us leverage.”

“Are you suggesting we make it public? Because that could kick off a turf war we might not be ready for,” Luka warns, always thinking three steps ahead.

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