Chapter 329: Proving Herself Worthy
~**Third Person**~
ONE DAY LATER.
The conference room hummed with unease. Maps, satellite images, and tactical notes were spread across the long steel table.
The men and women gathered there looked tense, some chewing on their pens, others tapping their fingers restlessly.
"They are too fast," one of the younger officers muttered, almost to himself. "We can’t track something that moves like a shadow. By the time you spot them, you are already dead, and they have proved that before."
Brackham slammed his palm on the table, making everyone flinch. His coffee mug rattled dangerously close to the edge.
"Then we don’t have to chase them and get killed," he snapped. "We will make them come to us instead."
A hush fell over the room. Brackham leaned forward, his eyes sharp and burning with frustration.
"What about the cameras we placed in the woods? What is left of them? Have they captured anything since then?"
A technician cleared his throat nervously. "Most of the cameras were destroyed and shredded, as if the vampires knew exactly where they were. Only two remain online, and so far...nothing. No movement, no signs."
Brackham cursed under his breath and pushed back his chair.
"Then forget about hiding behind technology. Use helicopters. Use snipers. Use bombs if you have to. I want a distraction—loud, messy, and impossible to ignore. Something big enough to drag those bloodsucking bastards out of whatever hole they are hiding in."
His voice thundered against the walls, each word carrying the weight of an order no one dared question.
The room buzzed again as officers exchanged glances, already sketching the outlines of a dangerous plan.
Brackham jabbed a finger at them. "Start planning it now. I don’t care how reckless it sounds. Just make it work."
He straightened his jacket, then turned his focus to the logistics officer at the far end of the table.
"And what about the next batch of supplies? Ammunition, guns, explosives. When is it arriving?"
The man adjusted his glasses and checked his notes. "Two nights from now, sir. A secure convoy is bringing it through the western route."
Brackham nodded slowly, his jaw tight. "Good. We will need every bullet, every shell, every ounce of firepower. The next time those monsters show themselves, I don’t just want a fight—I want a massacre."
---
At the same time in Draven’s estate, Meredith leaned over the balcony rail of her bedroom, trimming away the wilted petals from a cluster of white lilies.
The late-afternoon sun washed her silver hair in a soft glow. She had just set the scissors down when Draven’s voice brushed through her mind like a firm yet steady knock.
"The supply you requested has arrived."
Her heart gave a tiny skip. The matebond still surprised her with how vividly she could hear him, as if he were standing right behind her.
She steadied herself and asked through the link, "Where is it?"
"That depends," he replied, a faint edge of teasing woven into his tone. "Where do you want it?"
Meredith smiled despite herself, brushing her hands against her dress to shake off the trimmed petals.
"Put them in the room you arranged for me this morning. My lab." She straightened her back with quiet pride at the word. She was still excited that Draven had specially arranged a workplace for her.
"I’m coming to check the supplies myself," she finished.
"Understood," Draven answered, his voice firm again. Then, softer, "Don’t keep me waiting too long."
The link faded, leaving Meredith staring at the flowers in front of her, her lips tugging upward.
She was excited to be building something valuable—something Draven trusted her with.
With a deep breath, she turned from the balcony and called for Deidra to get her shoes.
A few minutes later, Meredith walked briskly down the hallway, Deidra trailing close behind her with a notepad in hand.
The air in her chest was light, almost restless, the kind of feeling that came with knowing she was about to do something meaningful.
When she reached the new room Draven had set aside for her, two men were already setting down crates and brown packages onto the long wooden table in the middle.
The faint, sharp tang of alcohol and herbs filled the space immediately.
"Set them all here," Meredith instructed, rolling up her sleeves as she stepped closer.
Deidra hovered at her side with wide eyes. "It smells... strong, my lady."
Meredith gave her a quick smile. "That’s the distilled alcohol. Don’t worry—you will get used to it."
One of the men unlatched a crate, revealing stacks of labelled glass jars and brown packets. Meredith leaned in, her gaze scanning quickly:
Bundles of camphor leaves neatly tied with twine. A jar of dried valerian root, pungent even with the lid sealed. Packets of sage, already cured and ready to burn.
Two glass bottles of lavender oil. And the tall container of distilled alcohol she had insisted on explicitly.
Everything she had asked for was provided.
Then Meredith picked up one of the jars, turning it in her hand and nodding in satisfaction. "Perfect."
Deidra, leaning in curiously, whispered, "So all this will make the Alpha’s men smell like humans?"
Meredith set the jar back down and drew in a breath. "If I mix it right, yes. Camphor and valerian will blur their natural wolf musk. Burnt sage will help cover the traces. And the lavender oil and alcohol... that’s the final touch—it makes the scent human enough to pass."
Deidra’s brows arched. "My lady, this is so clever."
Meredith gave a small smile, but her fingers curled slightly at her sides. It wasn’t just clever. It was dangerous. If she made even the slightest mistake, Draven’s men could be discovered.
As soon as that thought came, she dismissed it with a shake of her head. This wasn’t a time for doubts.
This was the first real task Draven had given her, and she wasn’t going to let him or herself down.
And at the same time, she also wanted to prove herself, that she was worthy of standing beside him as his wife, his mate, his pack’s Luna, and their kingdom’s Queen.