A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 170

NORTH RIDGE

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 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.”

He turned back toward the window, staring out at the vast expanse of forest that separated his land from Blood Crescent’s. Somewhere beyond those trees lay the ruins of his enemies‘ pride. Soon, those lands would be his.

“Prepare the warriors,” he said finally. “Quietly. I don’t want anyone outside the council knowing our plans yet. When the time comes, we’ll march on Blood Crescent. And there will be no survivors. He’ll wipe them out, and take their lands.”

Conrad bowed his head. “Yes, Alpha.”

Patrick didn’t respond. His eyes were distant, his mind already on the conquest ahead. For years, he’d been patient, careful, waiting for the right moment to strike. Now it was here.

He thought of Alexander’s face again–how shock had turned to fear. The memory gave him a dark sense of peace.

Let the world wait for the news, he thought. Let them mourn their golden boy.

By the time they realized what had happened, Blood Crescent would already belong to him.

“Funny,” Patrick said. “They say dreams come true with faith. Turns out, all they need is a dagger and a little push.”