A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 170

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Chapter 170

NORTH RIDGE

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Patrick relaxed in his chair, a slow, satisfied smirk curving his lips as the morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of his office.

He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done–not even close. In fact, he’d been waiting for this feeling for years. For once, his thoughts were quiet, his conscience at peace. Alexander Blackwell- Alpha of Blood Crescent, the last of his evil bloodline–was gone.

At last.

He’d made sure of it himself.

The memory of that moment came alive briefly in his mind…the look of disbelief on Alexander’s face when the blade sank into his side, the way his strength faltered, the shock in his eyes as realization dawned that it was Patrick who had betrayed him.

It should have been done a long time ago, and now, it had.

He rose from his seat and moved to the window overlooking his territory. North Ridge lay spread out before him, quiet and disciplined, as it should be. The people below bowed their heads as he passed, loyal. Soon, Blood Crescent would kneel too. Without Alexander, the pack would crumble. There was no one left with enough authority…or power…to stop him.

His beta, Conrad, entered the office quietly, holding a tablet. “Alpha,” he greeted, but Patrick didn’t turn. He could sense the hesitation in his second’s voice before the man spoke again.” Are you certain Alexander is dead?”

Patrick’s smirk widened. “You doubt me, Conrad?”

“No, Alpha,” Conrad said quickly, “it’s just that… for someone of his status, shouldn’t there have been news by now? I mean–he wasn’t just an Alpha. He was Alexander Blackwell, the CEO of Crescent Dynamics. His death would be everywhere…on every channel, every headline.”

Patrick finally turned, amusement flickering in his cold eyes. “And you think they’d broadcast it so fast, considering how he died?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. “You think the family would tell the world that their heir was stabbed with a silver dagger laced with wolfsbane and died?”

Conrad frowned slightly but said nothing.

Patrick walked slowly toward him. “You’ve been in this world long enough to know how it

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works. The humans can’t ever know. They won’t report a death they can’t explain. His family, his pack…” He paused, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest. “They’re probably scrambling right now, trying to come up with a story that sounds believable. Plane crash, maybe. Or an unfortunate accident. They can’t just tell the public that their precious Alexander was killed in a supernatural fight.”

Conrad nodded slowly, realization dawning. “So… they’re delaying the announcement.”

“Exactly,” Patrick said, settling back into his chair. “They’re taking time to fabricate something presentable before it hits the news. But make no mistake…he’s gone. No one survives a stab like that. Silver alone would have burned through his veins, but wolfsbane?” He shook his head, the smirk returning. “That poison eats through the body from the inside out. Even the Moon Goddess herself couldn’t save him.”

Conrad hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But-”

Patrick cut him off with a sharp look. “Don’t start,” he warned. “That man was a relic of his bloodline–arrogant, thought he was untouchable, born into privilege and worshipped by fools. But he wasn’t immortal. He bled like any other wolf, and he’s dead by now.”

Conrad bowed his head in silent acknowledgment, though the unease didn’t leave his expression. Patrick ignored it.

He reached for a crystal decanter on his desk and poured himself a drink. “Do you know what this means, Conrad?” he asked, his tone almost light. “For years, Blood Crescent has stood above every other pack–wealth, influence, alliances. All because of that man and his precious ancestors. They played god over the rest of us. But now?” He raised his glass in mock salute. “Now that he’s dead, their so–called dynasty is over.”

Conrad’s gaze flicked up, curious. “You plan to move against Blood Crescent?”

“Of course,” Patrick said simply. “But not yet. We’ll give them time to mourn. I’m not cruel. When the time is right, we’ll strike.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, savoring it. “We’ll take everything from them–their lands, their alliances, their power. By the time we’re done, Blood Crescent will be nothing more than a memory.”

Conrad shifted uneasily, sensing the depth of his Alpha’s satisfaction. “You’ve waited a long time for this.”

Patrick’s gaze darkened. “You have no idea,” he said quietly.

There was more to his hatred than ambition. Years ago, long before Alexander inherited the title of Alpha, Patrick’s own father had bowed before Blood Crescent’s rule to beg for aid

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