Page 16 of Nick (The Moonstone Pack #4)

HANNAH LYTTLE’S BLONDE PONYTAIL swished against her back as she strode through the door of Dorothy’s Café, the bell above jingling an announcement of her arrival.

Her eyes immediately locked onto the corner booth where Nick sat with Sarah, his posture guarded and every muscle taut beneath his shirt.

Conall and Quinton sat across from them, their twin expressions unreadable. The air carried the muted scent of coffee, mingling with the undercurrent of wolf—her pack.

“Black coffee,” Hannah ordered without looking at the waitress, her gaze still fixed on the foursome. She leaned against the counter, but there was nothing relaxed about her.

What were they discussing that required such secrecy?

The presence of Conall and Quinton suggested pack business, perhaps something to do with the tensions stirring within the Sunburst Pack’s hierarchy.

The steam from the espresso machine hissed, breaking her concentration momentarily. She accepted the mug with a nod, letting the warmth seep into her palms. She sipped the liquid, allowing its heat to unfurl within her chest as she continued her surveillance.

Nick ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. He caught Sarah’s gaze with a look that held a mix of emotions: longing, betrayal, caution.

It was the look of a man ensnared by conflicting desires, trapped between past love and present wariness.

Was there a weakness there she could exploit?

Hannah’s thoughts raced as she considered the possibilities.

If Nick was emotionally compromised, he might be more susceptible to manipulation.

She could use that to her advantage, gain the upper hand within the pack.

With Vincent.

But she needed more information, needed to know what cards they were holding close to their chests.

A low murmur of voices reached her ears, too soft for her to discern specific words, but the cadence suggested earnest discussion. It was maddening not to catch even a snippet of their conversation.

“Is everything okay?” the waitress asked, pulling Hannah out of her eavesdropping attempt.

“Perfect,” Hannah replied curtly, her attention snapping back to the group as they rose from the booth. Nick glanced back over his shoulder. Did he sense her scrutiny?

Hannah had to find out what was going on.

She slipped out of the café, watching from behind her dark sunglasses as Nick, Sarah, and the twins made their way to Sarah’s dusty blue Jeep parked at the curb.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Hannah murmured to herself, a corner of her lip curling upward.

She waited until they pulled out before slipping into her own vehicle, a nondescript sedan that would blend easily with the other local traffic. Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel. She ignited the engine and eased onto the road, maintaining a careful distance.

The town of Sunburst faded behind them, its collection of weathered buildings and sun-bleached signs giving way to the open expanse of the desert. The Jeep ahead kicked up a cloud, but Hannah kept her eyes fixed on her quarry, her senses sharpened.

The landscape rolled by, and the Jeep veered off the main road onto a lesser-traveled path, sending up a fresh plume of dust. Hannah eased off the accelerator, allowing the gap between them to widen further still.

It was a delicate dance, one she had mastered in her years maneuvering through the intricate politics of the pack.

But today was different. Today felt charged, electric with the possibility of change, of new alliances and old betrayals coming to light. Hannah’s ambitions tugged at her, promising to propel her to new heights.

As the Jeep turned once more, disappearing momentarily behind a rise of the mesa, Hannah prepared to follow. But she knew where they were headed now.

Hannah’s black sedan crept to a halt just beyond the rusted archway that marked the entrance to Sarah’s trailer park. From her vantage point, she could see figures emerging from the Jeep, Nick’s silhouette unmistakable even at this distance.

“Interesting,” she murmured, watching as Malcolm, Larissa, and Anders materialized from the twilight shadows. No sound carried to her ears, but their body language was telling enough.

Reunion or conspiracy? Hannah needed to know what they were planning.

Hannah slid out of the car and pressed herself against the side, her gaze never straying from the group.

“Come on, give me something I can use,” she whispered, almost willing them to betray their secrets to the open air. As the twilight deepened, she crept forward. Each step was silent, deliberate, the dust beneath her feet undisturbed by her passage.

She found a spot where the trailers formed a narrow alley, the perfect hideaway for an eavesdropper.

She allowed her senses to extend outward, straining for snippets of conversation that might drift on the breeze, her sharp eyes fixed on the group moving ahead.

Nick’s broad silhouette led the way, but the entire group seemed oblivious to the danger trailing them like a silent serpent.

“Keep close.” Nick’s low voice was thick with caution and an undercurrent of command that made Hannah’s lip curl. She could see his tall frame tense, muscles coiled.

How could so many of them think they were being sneaky as they all headed to Sarah Sanchez’s house?

Hannah’s features twisted into a snarl.

She fucking hated Sarah. The other woman was a mealymouthed little bitch yet so certain of her own superiority. She hadn’t always been that way. But she was now.

A single mother of a bastard child.

Hannah rolled her eyes.

Well. Sarah wouldn’t be able to hold on to that sense of superiority for long.

Here, out on the edge of town where Sarah lived, Hannah was about to strike gold.

She was sure of it.

The air was thick with the scent of sagebrush and anticipation, the latter all emanating from Hannah as she moved out from behind her car. She’d parked it near the entrance to the scrubby little trailer park where Sarah and Una had moved after Sarah’s beloved Nick had left her alone and pregnant.

Stupid little slut.

Hannah moved gracefully, her blonde ponytail swinging as she slid around the edges of the trailer houses. Each step was calculated, designed to keep her hidden yet close enough to catch snippets of conversation or, better yet, discover incriminating evidence.

They were planning something.

Hannah quickened her pace as the last of the stupid rebels stepped into the crappy house. She closed the gap just enough to overhear the strained murmurs of strategy.

Nick’s voice, a deep rumble, spoke of plans and contingencies, while Sarah’s softer tones said something about updates on their resources.

Hannah’s lips curved into a smirk; they were laying out Vincent’s downfall with every word they didn’t know she could hear.

Hannah’s anticipation thrummed in her veins, a pulsating rhythm that quickened with every step she took.

The rebels were foolish to think they could outwit Vincent, and even more so to believe they could conceal their plans from the pack’s prying eyes and ears. As Sarah’s soft voice joined Nick’s, Hannah’s excitement peaked.

Oh, how sweet it would be to pluck their secrets like ripe fruit, to lay their vulnerabilities bare before Vincent.

Hannah trailed them from a distance, her sharp features set in concentration. She was close enough to catch snippets of their hushed conversations.

“Ryker and Bronx should return soon, right?” Malcolm’s voice carried through the air.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Ryker texted me about an hour ago. They’re on their way back.”

Hannah’s pulse quickened as she worked to piece together their plan. She didn’t know who Ryker and Bronx were, but they had to be coconspirators. People from outside the Sunburst Pack. Her eyes narrowed in anger.

How dare they bring in outsiders? Bad enough Nick had returned—he hadn’t been part of their pack for years.

“Vincent won’t see this coming,” Sarah said.

This was it—the moment she’d been waiting for. Every whispered strategy, each covert glance, gave her more ammunition against these…these rebels.

The trailer door creaked open, revealing a sliver of yellow light that spilled onto the dusty gravel—a clandestine invitation. The rebels slipped inside, and Hannah crept forward.

Nick paused at the threshold, scanning the perimeter. His frame tensed, muscles coiled. Then he turned and went inside, shutting the door behind himself.

Hannah moved to stand just outside the trailer, hovering outside a window left open to aid the clunking swamp cooler as it cooled the air inside.

Muffled voices reached Hannah, the rebels’ plans unfolding. She edged closer, straining to hear over the thrumming of the cooler, rising just high enough to see into the window.

“…can’t afford any mistakes,” Sarah was saying, fingers twisting in the ends of her dark hair in a nervous gesture.

“Vincent won’t see it coming,” Larissa said.

“Vincent has grown complacent,” Malcolm said, his voice full of contempt. “It’s time we take back what’s ours.”

“Agreed. We need to act swiftly,” Quinton said, the urgency clear even through hushed tones.

“Tomorrow night, then?” Conall asked.

“Tomorrow night,” Malcolm echoed with a decisive nod.

As the plan unfolded, Hannah’s fingers tapped an impatient tattoo against her thigh. Finally, certain she had enough details, she turned away.

The Sunburst Pack was about to witness the unraveling of a rebellion—and Hannah would be the architect of its demise.

Retreating into the inky shadows, she considered the consequences of her next move.

Nick’s wary, protective nature had always been a thorn in her side, his kindness an irritation. She’d been glad when Vincent had unleashed the pack on Nick, even more when he’d run. She didn’t understand why Vincent had allowed Nick to return at all.

And Sarah…

Sarah had been her friend once, when they were children, but those days were long gone. Could she really condemn the woman to a certain death?

Remembering the elation she’d felt when she’d joined in eviscerating Martin, Hannah could almost taste the power she’d gain from turning in Nick and Sarah.

“Sorry, Nick. Sorry, Sarah,” she said as she climbed into her car and shut the door behind her. “But the pack needs a leader. We need Vincent.” A sharp grin crossed her face as she started the engine and pulled out of the small trailer park. “And Vincent needs me.”

She envisioned the scene: striding into Vincent’s presence, the information she held transforming into leverage, her status elevated as she became the bearer of crucial intelligence.

Vincent will see my worth , she assured herself.

“Power is won by those who are willing to take it,” she breathed out as she headed toward Vincent’s house. And Hannah was more than willing—she was hungry.

Hannah’s footsteps were muffled on the cold floor as she followed Percy into Vincent’s house. She rehearsed her lines in her mind, the vital information that would cement her place at Vincent’s side as a political ally, maybe even second-in-command—or so she hoped.

The door to Vincent’s private quarters loomed before them, and Percy gestured toward it. Without hesitation, she rapped sharply on the wood, her knuckles barely grazing the surface before the door swung inward.

Vincent stood inside, his icy gaze fixed on her. “Yes?”

“Vincent,” Hannah said. “We need to talk. About Nick and…others,” she said, not wasting a moment. “They’re planning a coup.”

Vincent’s expression remained impassive, but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed his interest. “And you know this how?”

“I followed them,” she said. “They met at Sarah’s. And they mean to overthrow you. If we move quickly, we can crush them before they strike.”

“We?”

Hannah blinked, faltering. “You, I mean. And I’ll help, if you’ll have me.”

Slowly, Vincent began to pace the room, his movement predatory, a lion circling its prey.

“Betrayal,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “From within my own pack.” It wasn’t a question, and Hannah saw he’d already known it was coming.

“Tomorrow night,” she added. “That’s when they’re planning to move.”

“Are you certain of this?”

“Absolutely. I would stake my life on it.”

Vincent halted his pacing, turning to face her fully. For a moment, he studied her. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “This loyalty will not be forgotten.”

As Vincent moved past her toward the door, a thrill of victory sizzled through Hannah.

Her gamble had paid off.

Her path to power lay open before her.

Assuming Vincent wins , a tiny voice inside her said.

Otherwise, she realized, she truly would have staked her life on this information.

He cannot lose.

Hannah would do everything in her power to make sure he won.