Page 147 of Knotted By my Pack

“What do you mean,team?”

“The Northern district. Evan’s in charge. He said they’ll meet you out there. But it’s bad. Really bad.”

I hang up and turn toward the others. They’re watching me already, faces sharp, instinct humming.

“There’s been a fire,” I say. “My workshop’s gone. Elias’s cabin, too.”

“What?” Elias’s expression darkens, his mind probably snapping to Rusty.

Julian mutters something sharp and vicious under his breath, already pulling keys from his coat. “Lockwood did this. I don’t give a shit if his fingerprints aren’t on it.”

“We need to go,” I say. “Now.”

The ride to the edge of the forest is dead quiet. No one speaks. No one needs to.

We smell it before we see it. That bitter, acrid stink of ash and chemical smoke. The ground is black. Charred earth spreads like a wound along the clearing.

Elias stands stiff near the tree line, staring at the remnants of his cabin in shock. It’s collapsed. Something in his expression cracks open for a second. He doesn’t move.

I catch sight of the firefighting crew then—three Alphas, broad-shouldered and soot-streaked, moving with easy command through the wreckage. The one giving orders hassmoke-gray eyes and a way of speaking that cuts through the chaos.

“Noah,” he says when he reaches me. He offers a hand. “We got here as fast as we could. Wind didn’t help. Pushed the flames right into the valley. But this,” he glances around, “it wasn’t accidental.”

The other two step closer. One of them, Gideon, has a burn scar along one forearm and carries himself like he’s walked through worse.

The third, Rhett, has a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and a voice like thunder when he calls for the perimeter to be secured.

Then we hear a whine and watch as Elias’s dog Rusty comes running from the debris. He kneels to pet him, relief written plainly on his face.

Evan’s gaze flicks to Elias’s cabin. “Gasoline. Traces of kerosene, too. Whoever did this wanted destruction, not a warning.”

“Yeah,” I say roughly. “I figured.”

Cora touches my arm. “Grace called again. She wanted you to know—you won. You’re the new assistant mayor.”

The silence after that hits hard. I don’t react. Don’t smile. Don’t move. Julian looks at me and doesn’t say congratulations.

“That motherfucker,” he says instead, voice low and shaking. “You win, and he burns your world down.”

“He’s desperate,” Elias says. He walks over, his face unreadable. “This is what a cornered man does.”

I watch the smoke coil up into the trees and vanish. The destruction is complete hereandat my workshop. What used to be my site is just twisted metal, scorched beams, and a concrete foundation choked with soot. The tools, the paperwork, the workbenches, everything is gone.

“I want to retaliate,” Julian says. “We’re not playing nice anymore. No more press statements. No more talking points.”

“And do what?” I ask, voice rough. “Burn his estate down? Set fire to the country club?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Cora steps between us. “You’re Chief Officer for Land, Housing and Physical Planning now. You have power to restore this town. Don’t throw it away because he wants you to act like him.”

I exhale slowly. Glance at Evan, who’s watching me with something like quiet respect.

“I’ll need your report,” I say. “Official documentation.”

“You’ll have it by morning.”

The wind picks up, carrying smoke deeper into the forest. Elias stands beside me, silent. Julian looks murderous. Cora’s hand finds mine again.