A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 39: Bait and Trap Discussion

Ace’s POV

The wooden table creaked as I leaned forward, my palms pressing into its rough surface. The morning light streaming through the windows illuminated the serious expressions around me - Ray’s calculating gaze, Philip’s furrowed brow, Chief Gareth’s clenched jaw. The scent of freshly brewed tea mingled with the tension in the air.

"Just as we discussed last night," Chief Gareth began, his calloused fingers tapping a steady rhythm against his mug, "we’ll interview the bandit victims today. What then?" His voice carried the weight of a man who’d seen too much suffering in his village.

I straightened my shoulders, feeling the fabric of my tunic pull tight across my back. "We gather information first," I said, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "Then we become the bait." My fingers curled into fists at my sides. "We’ll draw the bandits out and capture them."

Ray’s lips curved upward. His aura as a veteran general conveyed an almost imperceptible nod that surged confidence through me. He was testing me—assessing my ability to think like the future Alpha King I was destined to be.

Philip scratched at his chin. "How exactly does this bait plan work?" His knee bounced beneath the table, making the teacup rattle.

"It’s simple." I spread my hands across the worn wood. "We’ll leave the village loaded with what appears to be valuable goods. Head north toward bandit territory." My voice dropped lower. "Make it look like we’re merchants fleeing for good."

Ray’s mug clanked against the table as he set it down hard. "And if Khaleed really is the traitor? If he’s already warned them about us?" His golden eyes glinted like drawn blades in the sunlight.

A slow smirk spread across my face. Ray was pushing me, and I welcomed the challenge. "If Khaleed betrayed us, that works in our favor." I leaned in, the chair groaning beneath me. "They’ll underestimate us - think we’re just some foolish merchants playing at being heroes." My canines pressed against my lower lip. "And bandits can never resist easy prey carrying treasure."

The approving glint in Ray’s eyes told me I’d passed this test. But Chief Gareth’s face had gone ashen. His large hands trembled slightly around his mug.

"So you truly believe..." His voice cracked. "Khaleed, the boy I raised as my own..." The pain in his words hung thick in the air between us.

I reached across the table, stopping just short of touching his arm. "We have no proof," I said gently. "But we can’t ignore the possibility. For the safety of your village, we must proceed carefully."

The chief’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled sharply through his nose. "Alright," he murmured, the word heavy with resignation.

The rich aroma of frying bacon and fresh bread suddenly wafted from the kitchen, a stark contrast to the tension at the table.

"Is that everything?" Ray’s question pulled me back.

I’d almost forgotten the most crucial part. "Chief," I said urgently, "when we interview the victims, Khaleed needs to be there with us."

Philip nearly choked on his tea. "Wait - if you suspect him, why involve him?"

"Precisely because I suspect him." My fingers drummed against the table. "We need to keep him occupied at the inn for at least an hour after the interviews. That gives Philip, Ray and I time to prepare our departure without him noticing."

Chief Gareth’s jaw worked silently before he gave a firm nod. The lines around his eyes deepened with grim determination. "Understood."

"Philip, Ray and I will play the merchants," I continued. "We’ll make a show of packing up valuable-looking goods—"

Philip’s chair scraped loudly as he jumped up, nearly toppling his tea. "Brilliant plan! I can’t wait!" His sudden enthusiasm cut through the heavy atmosphere like sunlight through storm clouds.

Ray’s teeth crunched into the apple with more force than necessary, juice glistening on his lips. "But there’s still no sign of the Crimsonheart troops," he said, the words muffled around his bite. His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm against the wooden table. "Shouldn’t we adjust our plans if they show up mid-operation?"

I took a slow breath, the scent of ripe apple mixing with the earthy aroma of Chief Gareth’s herbal tea. "No changes," I said, keeping my voice even despite the tension coiling in my shoulders. "Our objective remains—capture the bandits, locate their hideout, assess their numbers and allies." My fingernails dug into my palms. "Only then can we coordinate properly with Crimsonheart’s forces when they arrive."

Chief Gareth shifted in his chair, the wood groaning under his weight. His thick fingers traced the rim of his chipped teacup. "Why not just... hunt the bandits down in the forest?" The question came out strained, his brow furrowed deep enough to shadow his eyes.

Ray’s apple core hit the table with a thud before I could respond. "Walking blind into their territory?" His voice dropped to a growl. "That’s how good men die. We need intel first—know what we’re facing—or we’re just throwing lives away." His orange eyes locked onto the chief’s, the unspoken warning clear in their intensity. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

"Exactly." I leaned forward, my elbows pressing into the rough tabletop. "Trust us, Chief. I want this finished by nightfall." The restless energy beneath my skin made my leg bounce uncontrollably under the table.

Chief Gareth exhaled through his nose, his broad shoulders sagging slightly. "I’ve trusted you since you arrived." His calloused hand rubbed at his beard. "Thank you for humoring an old man’s concerns."

The approval should have settled me, but my muscles remained taut. Every instinct screamed to finish this, to return home—but first we had to face whatever lurked in those shadowed woods.

"Are you boys done with your war planning?" Mrs. Melinda’s voice startled me—I hadn’t heard her approach. She stood right behind my chair, her flowery apron brushing my shoulder.

Ann moved with quiet efficiency, setting out porcelain plates that clinked against the worn table. Ovelia followed Mrs. Melinda, carrying steaming bowls of rice and platters of glazed meats; their arms moved in a practiced dance around each other. The rich scents of garlic, ginger, and roasted meat made my mouth water.

We took our seats—Philip practically vibrating with excitement beside Chief Gareth, while Ray’s calm presence anchored my right side. Ovelia’s knee brushed mine under the table, her warmth seeping through the fabric of my trousers.

"Just like last night," Mrs. Melinda announced, extending her hands. Her wedding ring gleamed in the morning light. "Join hands and give thanks."

Our palms connected—Philip’s grip slightly damp, Chief Gareth’s rough and steady, Ovelia’s fingers trembling faintly against mine.

Mrs. Melinda’s voice filled the room. "Dear God, we thank You for this bounty before us. May it strengthen our bodies and bind our hearts together. Help us cherish each bite, and remember those without."

"Amen," we chorused, the word resonating through our joined hands.

Philip was already reaching for the roasted pork when the prayer ended. "This looks incredible!" His eyes shone as he piled food onto his plate.

Mrs. Melinda’s cheeks pinked with pleasure. "Eat up, all of you." Her gaze lingered on Ovelia, who was carefully arranging vegetables on Ann’s plate like she’d done it a hundred times before. "There’s plenty more in the kitchen."