The day before the full moon dawned clear and cold.
Allison woke to the sound of low voices on the porch and the smell of fresh coffee.
Derek was already outside with Elias and Sable, the three of them bent over a hand-drawn map spread across the railing.
She dressed quickly in the clothes she had arrived in jeans, the green sweater, boots and joined them with a mug in hand.
The map showed the heart of the territory: the old clearing ringed by ancient oaks, the narrow approaches, the higher ground where the pack could stage an ambush.
Derek’s finger traced a line from the northern hollow to the clearing’s eastern edge.
“We don’t wait for it to come to us,” he was saying.
“We give it a reason to move on our schedule.
A clear, unprotected target it can’t resist.”
Sable’s gaze flicked to Allison, then back to Derek.
“You’re using her as bait.”
“I’m using the claim it already made on her,” Derek answered, voice even.
“It wants her.
We put her where it can see her, and we close the circle once it commits.”
Allison wrapped both hands around the warm mug.
“I’ll do it.”
Derek looked at her for a long moment.
The gold was faint in the morning light but present.
“You stay exactly where I place you.
You don’t improvise.
You don’t try to fight it yourself unless there is no other choice.
The silver knife stays in your hand the entire time.
Clear?”
“Clear.”
Elias spoke quietly.
“The residue we found this morning is stronger.
It’s drawing power faster than last cycle.
If we’re doing this, it has to be under the full moon when the pack is at peak strength.
Any earlier and we risk being outmatched.”
Derek nodded.
“Full moon.
The clearing.
Spread the word.
I want every fighter we have in position by eleven.
No exceptions.”
The two wolves left to carry the orders.
Derek remained at the rail, staring out at the trees.
Allison stepped up beside him.
The silence between them had changed since the night against the oak and the harder, hungrier claiming on the table.
It was denser.
More deliberate.
“You’re worried,” she said.
“I’m calculating.” He glanced sideways at her.
“The Wraith is older than any of us.
It’s survived every pack that has tried to end it.
I won’t underestimate it.
And I won’t let it take you because I was careless.”
Allison leaned her shoulder lightly against his.
“Then we won’t be careless.”
He exhaled, and some of the rigidity left his frame.
“Come on.
There’s work to do before dark.”
The rest of the morning was spent in motion.
Derek took her to a locked shed behind the cabin and opened a long wooden case.
Inside lay blades of different lengths, all with the same pale, silvery sheen.
He selected a short, double-edged knife with a simple leather-wrapped grip and placed it in her hand.
“Silver alloy,” he said.
“It won’t kill the Wraith on its own, but it will slow it and force it to hold one shape longer than it wants to.
Aim for the throat or the heart if you get the chance.
Don’t hesitate.”
Allison tested the weight.
It felt balanced, cold, and final.
“Once.
Eleven years ago, the night I became alpha.
It nearly took Mara.
We drove it off, but we didn’t finish it.
It’s been quieter since then until this year.” His jaw tightened.
“This time we finish it.”
They spent the early afternoon walking the route they would take after dark.
Derek showed her the places where the pack would hide, the open ground where she would stand, the signal he would give when the circle was ready to close.
He made her repeat the plan twice.
By the time they returned to the cabin, the sun had begun its slow descent and the air had taken on the sharp edge that preceded a cold night.
Mara arrived near dusk with a small duffel and a grim expression.
She set the bag on the table and looked at Allison.
“You’re still here.”
“I am.”
Mara studied her for a long moment, then gave a short nod.
“Then you’ll need something better than that sweater for what’s coming.
Temperature drops hard after midnight in the clearing.” She pulled a dark, insulated jacket from the duffel and tossed it to Allison.
“Wear it.
And try not to die.
The alpha’s been almost tolerable since you showed up.
I’d hate to lose the improvement.”
It was the closest thing to acceptance Mara had offered.
Allison slipped the jacket on.
It fit well enough.
“I’ll do my best.”
Derek watched the exchange from the doorway, something unreadable in his eyes.
When Mara left to take her position for the evening watch, he closed the door and turned the lock.
“One night,” he said.
Allison met his gaze.
“One night.”