I called Aubrey first. She sounded alarmed when she picked up, fearing something was wrong. "I need to borrow your car."

"For how long?" She asked.

"I'm not sure." I was already on my feet, throwing a handful of clothes into my backpack.

A pause. "Okay. Don't do anything stupid."

I debated calling Ephraim next but thought better of it. There was no chance he wouldn't tell Gabriel. Instead, I called Dmitri. It rang through to his voicemail and I left a message letting him know that I was on my way. I knew where to find his house, so I could get there without his direction. I had no idea what he wanted to discuss with me, but at this point, I didn't care. This was my way out.

When Jack had driven me to Castle territory the first time, then again when I'd driven back to see him, the drive was made purposefully long. Multiple rest stops, stretch breaks, drive-throughs. This time, I blew through it. What should have taken me seven hours took just over five. I should have gotten a speeding ticket somewhere along the way, but for the first time in a long time it felt like luck was on my side. The more distance I put between myself and Gabriel, the fainter his voice became in my head. The further away the burning ache in my chest seemed to feel.

It was odd, pulling into Sawtooth territory and not turning down the road that would have taken me to my house. Jack's house, I reminded myself. I'd never felt so disconnected in all my life. I didn't linger at the crossroads, instead directing the car down the alternate, smaller dirt path that I knew Dmitri lived on.

His home was modest in comparison to Gabriel's, but far more welcoming. He had a multitude of rooms that he reserved for visitors or pack members that needed a temporary place to stay for any reason. Constance kept a tidy garden out front, which was just beginning to peak through the last layer of melting snow. As I pulled in to park, Dmitri emerged from the front door. He'd been expecting me, and by the excited spark in his eye it was clear he'd been waiting impatiently for my arrival.

Hardly giving me a chance to catch my breath, he ushered me into the house and shook my hand. He grasped mine in both of his own tightly, pumping it up and down just once.

"Thank you for coming. I didn't expect you'd be able to on such short notice." Dmitri wore his emotions plainly: gratitude was written all over his face. It was nice, for a change, to know exactly what someone was feeling.

"I could hardly ignore a text like that," I said as he showed me back to his office. "Too much intrigue." Maybe this wasn't my home anymore, but I felt lighter already just being here. If I kept everything in me to do with Gabriel locked away in a tiny box, buried as deep as I could manage, maybe I'd be okay.

Dmitri chuckled, though it sounded darker than he'd likely meant it to. "There was too much to write out. And it's...sensitive. Drink?" He'd directed me to a plush leather armchair and was now beside a mahogany bar, built into the wall between towering bookshelves. He brandished a bottle of whiskey.

"Please." I needed that warmth inside of me now.

Dmitri handed me a glass and sat with his own in the chair beside mine. He tipped it towards me in a cheers motion and took a long sip. I concentrated on keeping my face neutral when the burning alcohol touched my tongue. It raised goosebumps down my arms, but it almost instantly gave me exactly what I craved as I drank it down. The heat that spread down my throat and into my muscles as I powered through the next few swallows was worth the bitter taste it left in my mouth. Smartly, he'd carried the bottle over as well and refilled both of our glasses once he'd also finished his own.

"Constance will be sorry to have missed you. She's staying in town with her sister, helping with the babies."

"That's too bad," I agreed. I was slightly disappointed, though if anyone would have seen straight through me, it would have been Constance. She was sharp, and almost too perceptive.

We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drinks. He was obviously going over whatever it was he had to tell me, trying to work out how to present it. His hesitation made me nervous; the last time he'd delivered such news, I'd been in a car leaving my home the very next morning.

Finally, Dmitri shifted in his chair so that he could better look at me. I mirrored his action. "Kiera," he started, solemn now. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you."

"I still think of this as my home, and you as my Alpha." I didn't know if this was the truth or not. At least, not fully. But since getting back, I was beginning to feel that way again.

He pressed his lips together in a grim smile. "I appreciate that, truly. What do you know of the recent attacks?"

"Not a lot," I said. "I know Castle Pack sent soldiers; last I heard they were heading towards Wenatchee territory after one of Alpha Barrett's soldiers was injured."

Dmitri hummed. "And the silver blades? You know that the rogues have still been attacking with those?"

I shook my head. "I didn't know that, but I figured as much. They're effective."

"They are indeed effective." He took another long drink before topping off both of our glasses. By the sensation creeping in behind my eyes I knew I didn't need any more, but I took a sip anyway. "Barrett nearly lost a soldier."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I didn't realize it had gotten that bad."

He regarded me silently, contemplating. "Do you remember what you said at the gathering? 'Wolves don't forge with silver.'"

"Sure, it was just a guess."

"I'd had a similar thought, too. But hearing you say it out loud, seeing how the others agreed..." He shook his head. "You were right, Kiera."

My eyebrows shot up. "I was?"

"I've been running this to ground since the gathering." Dmitri stood up to pace, swirling the last bit of whiskey around in his glass mindlessly. "It's taken that long to figure out. I've spent a lot of time and risked a lot of lives on this."

"I understand." I didn't.

He nodded, then continued: "I think I've determined which human settlement has been crafting the blades."

Leaning forward to rest my knees on my elbows, I let out a long breath. My brain was racing to keep up with him; I didn't want to sound foolish. "Are they supplying them to the rogues directly?"

"I don't think so. There's a middleman there, I think. I'm not sure." Dmitri raised a hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. "This is about as far as I've been able to get."

My wheels were turning now, putting together the bits and pieces of what he'd told me. Of why he'd asked me here. It dawned on me all at once, and I knew that he could tell because suddenly he dropped his gaze to avoid eye contact.

"You want me to go to them."

"I haven't been able to come up with another way to get to them. And I've tried, believe me," Dmitri insisted. The stress and frustration that radiated from him was heavy in the air around us. "This has kept me up for weeks."

"Dmitri," I said. He stopped his pacing and looked at me cautiously. "You don't have to convince me. You don't even have to ask. I'll do it."

When we moved to his desk, my steps were clumsy and unsteady. The whiskey had gone straight to my head, but I tried to play it off. I didn't want him to think that it was influencing my decision. The alcohol may have been messing with my coordination, but my thoughts were sharp and clear. I could do this—I had to do this. Maybe this was my path all along: to be broken apart so painfully that I'd be willing to leave. If Gabriel had said what I'd wanted him to say, I wouldn't be here.

Dmitri spread a large map of the continent across his desk and placed heavy objects on the corners to keep it from rolling shut as we examined it.

"Here." There were red markings all over the map that showed his efforts: circled areas that were then crossed out or scribbled over, arrows pointing in all directions. I struggled to make sense of it until he pointed to an area north of us, just across the Canadian border. "There's a small community, just here."

Studying it closely, I traced my eyes over the different highways and backroads that connected the two points. By my estimation, it would take at least ten, maybe twelve hours to get there. I could do it in a day, but driving that distance by myself in the snow would likely be more safely done in two.

"You're positive that's where they are?" I looked up at Dmitri, who was examining the map himself. His brow was furrowed.

"No," he confessed, then backtracked. "I mean, I'm fairly certain. I just don't want to lie to you and say it's a sure thing."

I hummed, wheels turning. I'd never done anything like this before—never even dreamed of it. Being with Jack, the two of us tended to stay removed from any sort of conflict. He was terrified of it, always worried he'd be called into service. I thought the closest I'd come was triaging at the clinic.

"I'm not asking you to do anything but get information." Dmitri seemed to read my mind and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "No sabotage, nothing like that. We just want to know who is commissioning the blades and how they're getting to the rogues."

I nodded. "I can do that."

Dmitri was looking at me curiously. "If I might ask, what changed his mind?"

"What changed whose mind?" I frowned.

"Gabriel's," he said.

Confused, I crossed my arms over my chest tightly. He was the last person I wanted to discuss. "What do you mean?"

"I told Gabriel about this two weeks ago, Kiera. I asked him if he would allow you to help. He turned me down."

"Oh." My heartbeat faltered when a sharp pain drove through my chest. Turning back to the map, I tried to hide the hurt that I knew had just flashed across my face. Of course he hadn't said anything to me about it; he knew I'd say yes. Now here I was, doing the very thing he'd tried to protect me from. Because of him. In spite of him.

"Does he know that you're here?" Dmitri asked cautiously.

"No. And he doesn't need to." I said the words stiffly and hoped that he would read the subtext I was trying to convey. When I straightened back up, back in control, he searched my eyes for a moment before nodding.

"It's best that no one does outside of the two of us. Constance knows about the situation, of course. But not that you and I have spoken." He looked down. "I'm afraid she wouldn't approve of me asking this of you."

"Understood. When do I leave?"