The room is suffocatingly dark. Not by accident. By design.
The only light comes from a single candle at the center of the long table, its flickering glow stretching shadows across the faces of those seated around it. The air is thick with tension, filled with the quiet weight of power, ambition, and fear.
At the head of the table, in the deepest part of the darkness, they sit. The one who does not need to raise their voice to be heard. The one whose presence alone keeps even the most ruthless wolves in line.
The Mastermind.
They do not waste words.
They do not tolerate failure.
And tonight, they are displeased.
---
A Blackridge leader leans forward, his voice steady but forced.
Blackridge Leader: "Stormveil's involvement is unfortunate. But it doesn't change the plan."
Silence.
The candlelight flickers. A shift in the air—small, but suffocating.
Then, a slow, measured exhale. The kind that makes the wolf's spine stiffen, though he does not know why.
Mastermind (calmly): "Unfortunate?"
A pause.
A chair creaks as the Mastermind leans forward just enough for their face to catch the faintest sliver of light. Cold eyes. Dead eyes. The kind that don't just see weakness but dissect it, break it down into its smallest, most pitiful pieces.
Mastermind: "Do you think this is a battle? That you will tear into their throats, and they will simply fall?"
No one dares to answer.
The Mastermind's fingers tap once against the table. Rhythmic. Precise. Calculated.
Mastermind: "F4 is not strong because of their warriors. They are strong because of what they control. Their influence. Their resources. Their power beyond power."
Another tap. Like the ticking of a countdown.
Mastermind: "And Stormveil?"
The name lingers in the air, heavy with something unreadable.
The Mastermind smiles.
A slow, dangerous smile.
Mastermind: "Stormveil does not fight for power. They fight for each other."
The Blackridge leader shifts uncomfortably.
Mastermind: "That is why they will lose."
---
The conversation turns. The hunters are brought up next. The humans who believe they are the predators, the ones on the righteous path to cleansing the world of beasts.
They do not see the strings wrapped around their throats.
They do not realize who placed the weapons in their hands.
Mastermind (softly): "The hunters think they are at war."
Their fingers drum against the wood again.
Mastermind: "They do not see the war is already lost."
The hunters will bleed for them. They will think they are making progress while unknowingly dismantling F4 piece by piece.
Let them burn the right cities.
Let them kill the right people.
Let them destroy from the inside while thinking it was their own idea.
They will be the fire that spreads—while the Mastermind controls the wind.
---
The Mastermind does not need to order an attack.
They do not need to move the pieces.
The pieces are already moving.
Mastermind: "Stormveil will not fall in battle."
A hand lifts, fingers pressing together in thought. The candle's light barely catches the faintest glimpse of sharp nails.
Mastermind: "We will not take them head-on."
A smirk. Calculated. Amused.
Mastermind: "We will take what they protect."
A beat.
The realization sinks into the room like poison.
F4's businesses. Their allies. Their families.
Stormveil's packmates. Their people. Their mates.
The Mastermind sits back, satisfied.
Mastermind: "They think they have won because they survived one battle."
The shadows seem to shift around them, swallowing their figure whole.
Mastermind: "They do not realize... the war has already begun."
The meeting ends.
One by one, they leave.
But in the darkness, the Mastermind remains.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling.
Because this is not a game of strength.
This is a game of time.
And time is already on their side.
-----
The Calm Before the Storm
The next few days pass in a strange, unspoken shift.
The kind where nothing is said, but everyone feels it.
The way Nani and Sky move around each other like opposing forces still pretending they aren't pulled together.
The way Pond and Phuwin's instincts subtly guide them into something neither of them fully understands yet.
The way Dew avoids Tee like he can outrun what's already in his blood.
The way Bright tries to distract himself, but all it takes is one glance from Win to shatter his focus.
Life goes on. But something is different. Everything is different.
---
Push and Pull
Nani pretends nothing happened.
No lingering emotions from that night. No thoughts about Sky's words. No feeling still sitting in his chest, waiting to be acknowledged.
But he's not avoiding Sky.
That's the difference.
Sky is there, the way he always is. Not pushing. Not demanding. Just... there.
It should be easy to act normal. To keep everything the same.
And yet—
The first time Nani catches Sky watching him, his body reacts before his mind can stop it.
That brief, sharp tension.
The flicker of something he doesn't want to name.
And Sky?
He just holds his gaze.
Not as a challenge. Not as a demand.
Just—waiting.
Like he already knows.
Like he knows exactly how this will end.
Nani looks away first.
Because that's the problem, isn't it?
Sky isn't forcing anything.
Which means it's Nani's own damn instincts betraying him.
---
A Bond That Forms Without Words
Pond doesn't realize when it started.
The way he keeps Phuwin close without thinking.
The way he instinctively moves in front of him when they walk in crowds, without ever deciding to.
The way Phuwin, without even noticing, always ends up within reach.
They don't talk about it.
They don't even acknowledge it.
But one afternoon, when Phuwin falls asleep on the couch, Pond sits nearby—without a reason, without thinking about it—until Phuwin shifts in his sleep and subconsciously moves closer to his warmth.
Pond doesn't move.
Neither of them do.
And maybe that's enough for now.
---
The Waiting Game
Dew is still avoiding Tee.
But here's the problem.
Tee doesn't care.
Or at least, he doesn't care the way Dew expects him to.
Dew expects pursuit. Possessiveness. Control.
Instead, Tee just—exists.
A presence that lingers, close enough to remind Dew he's still there, but not close enough to push.
It's infuriating.
Because somehow, it's worse.
Worse than being chased. Worse than being cornered and forced to acknowledge what's happening.
Because Tee's patience means Dew is the one who keeps thinking about him.
And Dew hates it.
---
A Silent Struggle
Bright doesn't like feeling helpless.
It's not his nature.
And yet—
Every time he sees Win, every time they accidentally brush against each other—that damn spark happens again.
The proof of something Win refuses to see.
Bright should just ignore it. Push it down.
But the longer Win stays oblivious, or maybe just stubborn, the harder it is to resist.
Because if Win won't acknowledge it—
Then what the hell is Bright supposed to do?
-----
The Storm
Sky was never the type to show weakness.
An Alpha had no right to hesitate, no time to waver. Especially not now.
He stood in his office, eyes locked on Fort, his second-in-command, who had just delivered the kind of news that sent ice through his veins.
The Four Fang Alliance was in trouble.
Not just a territorial dispute. Not just a rogue faction causing problems.
This was something bigger. Something worse.
The F4 leaders had sent an urgent message. The kind that meant they weren't just asking for assistance.
They were calling in a debt.
Stormveil had already put itself in the middle of this war. But now?
Now, they couldn't step back.
Sky exhaled slowly, controlling the tension rolling through his body.
Fort didn't speak. He didn't have to.
The way his jaw was clenched, the way he shifted slightly in his stance—it was bad.
Sky dragged a hand through his hair, his mind already working through the next steps, already calculating the consequences.
Then—
A feeling.
A presence.
His eyes flickered to the doorway, and there—
Nani.
Standing just far enough away to pretend he wasn't watching.
But Sky knew better.
Nani's gaze was sharp, locked onto him, the way it always was when he sensed something was wrong.
Because even without hearing the conversation, Nani knew.
Knew that whatever just happened—it changed everything.
Sky clenched his fists at his sides.
The last thing he wanted was for Nani to get dragged into this.
But deep down?
He already knew—Nani wouldn't stay out of it.
Because Nani wasn't just any Omega.
He was an heir. A leader. A fighter.
And this time?
There was no avoiding what was coming.
----
Nani didn't move.
He just stood there, his arms crossed, his weight shifted slightly to one side—casual, effortless.
But his eyes?
Sharp. Unyielding. Reading him.
Sky hated that Nani was so damn good at that.
At seeing through him, at noticing the shifts in his expression, the weight in his posture.
At knowing something was wrong even before Sky said a word.
Fort, wisely, stepped back. He knew better than to get between them.
Sky exhaled, forcing his voice to stay even. "It's nothing you need to worry about."
Wrong answer.
Nani's expression didn't change, but Sky could feel it—the silent challenge.
Then, Nani's voice—calm, too calm.
"That's funny," he said. "Because from where I'm standing? It looks like I do."
A flicker of something hot, something instinctive, surged through Sky's chest.
That pull between them.
That damn bond.
Sky stepped forward, lowering his voice. "Nani."
A warning. A plea.
But Nani didn't back down. He never did.
Instead, he simply tilted his head, voice edged with quiet determination.
"If you think I'm going to sit on the sidelines, you don't know me at all."
Sky clenched his jaw.
Of course, he knew.
That was the problem.