“So the ledger doesn’t just prove what my family did,” Conner says slowly. “It proves who was paying them. And it shows how Bern was connected.”
Brenna nods. “It leads to Bern’s network. Which he built, which he controls, and which he’s used for integrating into Syndicate operations while sitting on the southern council playing elder statesman.” There’s an edge to her voice that I recognize. “Take him down, and you sever the link between the legitimate wolf power structure and the Syndicate. That’s what the council case does. It doesn’t just expose a corrupt politician. It cuts off the political cover that’s let the Syndicate operate in wolf territories for years.”
The kitchen is quiet. Rook has stopped eating entirely. Merric is watching Conner, reading how this lands.
“Garrett doesn’t know any of this,” Conner says. “He thinks the operation was local. A regional arrangement.”
“Most of the packs that are involved probably think the same thing. That’s how Bern built it: compartmentalized, deniable, every pack thinking they were dealing with a private network rather than a single man’s empire.” Brenna pauses. “But the financial routing tells a different story. And your testimony puts a face on it: the enforcer who ran the ground operation, confirming how the supply side worked. Without you, Bern has room to claim the connections are coincidental. With you, he doesn’t.”
“When?” I ask.
“Soon. This week, if possible.” Brenna’s voice sharpens. “Garrett’s call changed the timetable. Bern’s had decades to build alliances on that council. The moment he understands we have the financial trail, he’ll start working every contact he has. Reframing the narrative before we can present it. Calling this a Ravenclaw vendetta, a magic-blood power grab, a disgruntled enforcer seduced by—” She stops herself. Glances at me. “You get the picture.”
“We hit him before he poisons the well,” Merric says.
“Exactly.”
“And the Syndicate itself?” Conner asks. “The facilities, the network… that’s bigger than a council hearing.”
“That’s the Aurora Collective’s fight. Viktor Parlance has been coordinating since connecting with Merric and Frostbourne. Other packs, other alphas who’ve been hit. They’ll deal with the big picture; they have the infrastructure for it.” Brenna picks up the file that’s been sitting on the counter since last night. Thick. Dog-eared. “But Bern is the bridge. He sits on the councilandfeeds intelligence to the Syndicate. Cut the bridge, andthe Syndicate loses its access to wolf territory. That’s what this does.”
She tucks the file under her arm. “Conner, you and I are going to sit down this afternoon and build your testimony. Every detail of the pipeline, from the assessment to the junction to the truck. How it worked, who you contacted, what you were told.” She meets his eyes. “The councils will try to break you. We’re going to make sure they can’t.”
“Understood.”
“Willow, I need Arden. Everything she hasn’t told us about the facility’s operations, how the supply chains connect, what she overheard about the wider network. If Bern’s lawyers try to isolate the Forrester operation as a single bad actor, Arden’s testimony is what proves it’s systemic.”
“I’ll find her.”
Brenna leaves. Merric follows. Rook picks up his toast, looks at it, and puts it down again. He heads out without a word.
The kitchen empties. Conner and I sit at the table with cooling coffee between us.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He nods. He doesn’t look okay. “Bern. I know the name. Never met him formally. He came through the southern territories a few times when I was younger. Pop treated him like visiting royalty.”
“He would have. Bern cultivated every pack in the south. That was the whole point.”
“And my father never knew he was part of something that big?”
“Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t want to.” I put my hand over his. “Does it change anything for you? Knowing it goes higher?”
He thinks about it. Really thinks, the way he does—not performing consideration, actually sitting with the question.
“No,” he says. “The wolves in that facility don’t care about the politics. They care that someone came.” He turns his hand under mine. Holds it. “The rest is for people like Brenna to untangle. I just need to stand up and tell the truth.”
I lean over and kiss him. Brief. Firm. A reminder that the consequences include this: us, here, whatever we’re building. He catches my hand as I pull back. Holds it for a second. Lets go reluctantly.
We leave the kitchen. We both have work to do.
I find Arden outside the healers’ building, sitting on the step with Lachlan. He’s whittling something—a stick, maybe, or the beginning of a toy—and she’s watching the yard with the steady gaze of a woman who’s monitoring everything she sees. Survival habit. The kind you don’t lose.
“Walk with me,” I say.
She reads my face, touches Lachlan’s shoulder once, and falls into step beside me without a word. We take the path toward the back room of the lodge. I don’t rush into it. Arden doesn’t need to be handled, but she also just spent months in a cage, and the difference between an ally asking questions and a captor demanding answers can come down to tone.
“The Forresters know what happened,” I say. “Which means the chain upward knows. The man who built the network—Bern—sits on the southern council. Brenna’s taking the case to them this week.”