Destined for Deception ✔️

Chapter 24

Cerise hated social visits. She despised of meeting new people, hated small-talk, and refused to adhere to social niceties. It was a damn waste of her time. It was a shame she was such a realist. Had she been more vain – like Corbin – she would have tried to fulfil her mission without any outside help. Alas, she wasn't, and she understood full well that her life would be much easier if she had backing.

That was why she had come to Golden Dawn. She had let her teleporter take her straight to the pack's centre. After all, if she had to make the visit, she might as well make an entrance while she was at it. She had brought Jonathan, who was telekinetic, and he came in handy. The moment they arrived on the clearing, soldiers came running from every direction. One motion from Jonathan, and all their muscles froze, pinning them in place. It was like a field of living statues.

"I wish to speak to Alpha Braxton," she said, making sure to enunciate clearly, her voice resounding around the clearing. "I am rather pressed for time, so if someone could link him and tell him to hurry up, that would be much appreciated."

She surveyed the memories of the frozen soldiers surrounding her to check if someone adhered to her request. Several did, and she dragged her spine up straighter. She had met Braxton years ago, back when she was still Corbin's side-kick. She didn't remember him very favourably. If memory served her correctly – and it always did – he was a coarse man with wandering eyes and groping hands. He was someone who was far too busy drooling over women to ever respect them. Had there been any other way, she would never have revived their acquaintance, but his pack was the largest of the enemy packs, and without him there was no chance she would ever persuade the other alphas to stand with her.

It took about a minute – which was a minute too long – for the doors of the pack house to be thrown open and for Braxton to come barging out. He halted a moment, taking in his useless army, then started down the stairs with big strides.

"I swear there's too many Shadow Walkers zapping in and out of my territory lately," he said, his voice thundering so loudly that the soldiers, despite being frozen, trembled.

Cerise waited for him to come closer. Unlike him, she would not shout across the clearing to make herself audible. She had more class than that.

The years had not been kind to him. Or perhaps he'd just always been ugly. There was a scar running from his left ear to his chin, partially hidden from view by his unruly, greying beard. His body was a mountainous mass of solid muscle. He was intimidating, and his energy swept around him like a storm, crackling and lashing out. He might be ugly as night, but he was an alpha if ever Cerise had seen one, and that, at least, she knew how to appreciate.

Braxton manoeuvred a way past his forces, then halted in front of her. His dark eyes latched onto her, taking her in as though he was already devouring her in his mind. Were he any other, she would have broken his already crooked nose for looking at her like that, but she needed him.

Cerise's Shadow Walkers were stronger than any army, and they were undefeated fighters, but fact remained that they were small in number. If she wanted to have any chance of successfully storming the castle, she needed quantity over quality. She needed someone to keep Alder's forces busy while she carried out her masterplan. She might have been as vain as Corbin, but she knew her worth, and the worth of her people. She had little doubt she could win this war without anyone, but it would be easier with help, and besides, she would need the connections once she had won. Alpha Braxton was too powerful to ignore, and too powerful to beat up. She needed – the mere thought made her shudder in disgust – to grovel. Only she needed to do it in such a way that he didn't realise that that was what she was doing.

"You're the spitting image of that kid," Braxton said. "Corbin's daughter." His memories told her about Corbin and Ryleigh's visit to him, and the lust coating the recollection told him how gladly he would have laid hands on Ryleigh. "You're as pretty as she was, though, granted, older. But you're looking good. You're Corbin's fated mate, right? The one who rose from the grave after fifteen years?"