Lars had explained the plan earlier in that calm, calculated way of his, the kind that made everyone in the room believe he'd thought of every angle, every possible risk. "We don't know how many of them are out there," he began, pacing slowly in front of the warriors gathered in the briefing hall. His voice was steady, but the undercurrent of tension was clear. "We don't know their numbers, and we don't fully understand their strength. We can't just rush into this head-on. We have to do this the smart way."

He stopped pacing and turned to face us directly, his sharp gaze moving across the room, making sure he had everyone's attention. "We're going to put on a show—a full display of strength. The guards will take to the battlements, armor polished, weapons at the ready. Torches lit to throw shadows, make it look like we're gearing up for an assault. The rogue pack is watching us. They'll think we're preparing to attack. And while their eyes are on the walls, a small group—us—will slip out through the side gate, undetected. They won't see it coming."

Lars paused for a moment, letting his words settle over us. The tension in the air thickened. I could feel it, the pressure building as everyone in the room realized the stakes. If we failed, if they caught on to what we were really doing, the consequences would be disastrous.

"We move quietly, we move fast. If they catch even the faintest whiff of what we're doing," Lars said, his voice dropping, "this whole plan could blow up in our faces."

As I stood there, absorbing his words, I glanced at Calla. She stood tall, her arms crossed, a look of grim determination on her face. We all knew what was at stake. And we all knew that once we left the safety of the fortress walls, anything could happen.

Now, as the plan unfolded exactly as Lars had outlined, the weight of it all hung heavy on my shoulders. The guards of the Night Fall Runners stood like statues atop the battlements, their armor gleaming in the pale moonlight, torches flickering in the cool night breeze. From a distance, it looked like we were preparing for war—a ruse, carefully orchestrated to keep the rogue pack's attention fixed on us.

As we approached the narrow side gate, Lars was already ahead of us, his large frame casting long shadows against the stone wall. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but he made no move to draw it. His weapon of choice wasn't the blade—it was his mind, always sharp, always thinking three moves ahead. Like Morgan had been.

The thought of my sister made my chest tighten, and I struggled to focus on the task at hand. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the past.

We slipped through the gate, the heavy wooden door closing with a soft creak behind us. The moment we stepped outside the fortress walls, the atmosphere shifted. The air felt heavier, thicker somehow. Wilder. More dangerous. Tall trees surrounded us, their branches swaying in the gentle breeze, casting strange, twisted shadows across the ground. Everything was still, too still, like the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Stay close," Lars murmured, his voice barely audible as he led us through the underbrush. The ground was soft beneath our boots, the scent of damp earth and pine filling the air. Every sound—the rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig—seemed magnified in the eerie silence. It felt like the forest was alive, watching us as we passed through its depths.

Calla moved beside me, her steps light and silent, like a shadow slipping between the trees. I envied her calm focus, her ability to push everything else aside and zero in on the task at hand. My mind, on the other hand, was a storm of thoughts—of Morgan, the rogues, the Moonstone shards, and the uncertainty that lingered like a dark cloud over everything we did.

I glanced at Calla. "She's always been too clever for her own good," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Calla turned her head slightly, arching an eyebrow. "Who? Morgan?"

"Yeah," I replied, a tightness in my voice. "She knows how to stay one step ahead. She's always known exactly what to do to piss me off. It's like she's playing a game."

Calla didn't respond immediately. Instead, she looked up at the sky, her gaze following the moonlight filtering through the canopy above us. "She might be clever," Calla said finally, her voice soft but firm, "but that doesn't mean she's invincible. People like her always think they're untouchable. That's their downfall."

"She's always known how to use her manipulative ways to her advantage," I argued, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "She twists things, makes you doubt yourself."

Calla glanced at me, her green eyes piercing. "That's how she wins. Don't let her get in your head, Majesty. Focus."

Before I could respond, a sharp crack echoed through the forest—a branch snapping somewhere ahead of us. Instantly, we froze. Lars dropped into a crouch, his hand raised in a silent command for us to stay still. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of it deafening in the sudden silence. I held my breath, listening intently for any other sounds.

Lars slowly scanned the forest, his eyes sharp, his body tense and ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. Every second felt like an eternity as we waited for something—anything—to emerge from the shadows.

After what felt like an age, Lars slowly straightened, but his posture was still stiff, his voice low. "It's nothing," he said, but there was a trace of uncertainty in his tone.

We continued forward, but now our movements were more cautious, our senses heightened. The forest was dense here, the trees growing so close together that the moonlight barely filtered through the branches. Shadows seemed to dance around us, moving with us, making it impossible to tell where the forest ended and the danger began.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, we reached the clearing where I had seen Morgan earlier that night. The meadow stretched out before us, bathed in silver moonlight. The tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, but the stillness of the scene felt unnatural. I stared at the spot where Morgan had stood, replaying the moment over and over in my mind.

Her scent still lingered in the air, faint but undeniable. I inhaled deeply, trying to focus, but it was fading fast.

"She's not here," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else.

Lars crouched low, examining the ground. "I only see one set of tracks," he said, his brow furrowed as he traced the path. "She was here, but she turned to wolf. Her tracks vanish beyond that point."

Calla let out a frustrated sigh. "Why would she come all this way just to leave?"

"To torment me," I said, shaking my head. "This is all a game to her. She's playing with us."

There was a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside me—relief that we hadn't walked into a trap, but also disappointment. I had been so close to her. So close, and yet, just like always, she was gone. Just out of reach.

Calla glanced at me, frustration clear in her eyes. "Damn it. We were too late."

"We weren't late," I said, my voice hard, bitter. "She did this on purpose. She wants us off balance."

Lars stood, brushing dirt from his hands. "At least she's gone for now. I don't smell anything else out of the ordinary—no scent of rogues, no danger."

I nodded, but my mind was still racing. This was too easy, too convenient. Morgan had always been clever, but this felt different. It felt like she was leading us, guiding us exactly where she wanted us to go. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were playing right into her hands.

Lars interrupted my thoughts, his voice firm. "We should head back to the fortress. There's nothing more for us here."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "We came out here for more than just a ghost chase. I still need to search for the Moonstone shards."

Calla shot me a wary look. "Are you sure that's the best idea right now? We're exposed out here."

"I don't know anymore," I admitted, the weight of it all pressing down on me. "But that's why we came. I'll talk to Alpha Bryce and ask him to lend us a few extra guards to help with a search tomorrow instead."

Lars frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. "What if there aren't any shards? What if this is just another trick?"

His words hung in the air, a grim reminder of the danger we still faced. Morgan could be leading us into a trap, playing with our expectations just like she always did. But something told me this wasn't over. She wasn't done with us yet.

"I'll ask for double the guards," I said quietly, my resolve hardening. "I'll be out searching tomorrow, no matter what."

Calla sighed but nodded. "We should be fine with us and a few extra guards. Let's get back before we draw any unwanted attention."

We turned and began the trek back to the fortress. The walk was quiet, the tension between us palpable. My mind was buzzing with too many thoughts, and I could feel the weight of our situation pressing down on all of us. Calla was quiet, her jaw clenched, and Lars seemed deep in thought, though I could sense his frustration just beneath the surface.

As we neared the fortress walls, a distant howl pierced the night, the sound echoing through the trees. The rogue pack. Still out there, somewhere in the darkness.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. One way or another, we weren't done with them—or with Morgan. Whatever she had planned, it wasn't over.

The gates creaked as they opened, and we slipped back inside the fortress walls. The sight of Alpha Bryce waiting for us with his arms crossed, his stern face lit by the flickering torches, sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes narrowed as he took in our expressions, clearly reading the tension that clung to us like a second skin.

"You're back sooner than expected," he said, his voice laced with curiosity.

"There was nothing," Lars said, his voice clipped. "No sign of the rogues, no tracks—just Morgan, briefly."

Alpha Bryce's jaw tightened, his blue eyes flicking between us. "That's impossible. They were watching us just hours ago. Why would they leave?"

I sighed, frustration creeping into my tone. "Morgan's playing a different game. Psychological warfare. Trying to mess with my head."

Calla crossed her arms, her gaze hard. "This whole thing reeks of a setup."

Bryce exhaled slowly, his expression grim. "Whatever Morgan and the rogues are planning, we need to be prepared for the worst. This isn't over."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. He was right. Whatever was coming, it was only just beginning.

"Alpha?" I asked.

"Yes, Queen Elara?"

"That's still weird," I said. "Um, could you spot us some security tomorrow?"

"Why? You're not still planning on going out are you?"

I nodded my head. "I have too. That was the entire reason we came here. Try to find shards."

"Of course. I can send out my own person detail with you. They're the best trained. Incredible fighters."

"We appreciate that," I told him, grasping his shoulder. "Until then, can we go to bed? I'm exhausted."

"How about dinner first?" he asked.

"Yes!" Lars said eagerly.

I smiled. A little bit of normalcy.