It was well after midnight and a dense, grey fog had crept in across the forest floor to obscure all but the nearest trees from sight. In the gloomy conditions a human would have been completely helpless. Luckily for the seven wolves that cautiously moved through the shadows, they had the advantages of night vision and instinct on their sides, and this kind of weather was welcomed because it hid their approach well.

Nonetheless their ears, even more than their eyes, were wary. For in this type of situation, sound was far more important than sight to warn of approaching danger, and the fog highlighted the smallest snap of a twig.

It was a bad time to be out beyond the borders. By day, no-mans land was no more dangerous than any other stretch of the forest - hostile but easy to navigate. By night, the rogues who dwelled there held the advantage, and the forest became an arena where the strong fed upon the weak and unwary.

Blake Hunter however, was neither of these things. Even without his equally dangerous brother, Asher, and a half-dozen of his best warriors protecting his flank; the Alpha of the Blackridge pack was not a wolf you crossed lightly.

His huge black wolf weaved, almost invisible, through the trees and his Alpha senses - sharper than the average wolfs - paid close attention to the movements in the night. He was trained, moreover, in levels of violence that no normal rogue could possibly match, made even more dangerous by his calm, collected exterior.

Bleakly, his wolf searched through the murk for a rogue stupid enough to try an attack in the dark. Unlike his human counterpart who calculated every move he made; when provoked Rothan was a living nightmare of claws, fur and teeth... and he had really been provoked of late.

We don't have time, Blake reminded him.

Much as both of them might have taken some satisfaction in the rush, tear and slash of an encounter with an enemy they could take their frustrations out on, they had responsibilities. Tonight's venture across the borders was a fact-finding mission. An in and out foray into another Alpha's pack.

After much discussion, the brothers had decided to utilise both of their expertise during their time in Elmwood. If all went to plan, Blake would be able to negotiate for the information they needed, and the Elmwood Alpha, Syrus, would be none the wiser that a second Alpha had ever laid a paw across his borders. If Syrus proved uncooperative... well, hopefully he still wouldn't know Asher had stepped across his borders, but Blake might gain his information anyway.

As they slunk closer to the pack border, he sought to keep his wolf focused on the task at hand by reminding him why they were doing this. For their pack. For Hannah.

Rothan huffed in annoyance, but allowed Blake to take the lead.

Somewhere ahead he heard the tell-tale sounds of a patrol - a clear sign that they were close to the borders of Elmwood. The thick fog had dampened the scent trails marking the border-lines and it looked unlikely they'd be able to identify the unique aroma until they were right on top of it, especially if it were poorly maintained.

He muttered an oath and flattened himself to the forest floor, inwardly cringing as the damp leaves stuck to his exposed belly. His companions follow suit, though he doubted they'd have picked up on patrol themselves yet.

Rothan huffed in approval.

A half-dozen wolves padded by, their damp coats matted and bedraggled. They were accompanied by two warriors in human form, looking no less weather-worn and carrying the traditional welcome gifts the Alphas offered at the borders - a pledge of peace for the duration of a visit. Blake focused his Alpha hearing on their pack link, a trick he'd learnt a long time ago from his father.

"It's not far from here, near the twisted oak tree," the ranking wolf was saying arrogantly through the link. "The Blackridge Alpha will be there at dawn. They'll be here before then, of course, but our presence will restrict them from crossing over before our Alpha is ready for them to."

He was young to be leading a border patrol, Blake mused. Most likely the son of one of the current lieutenants.

"We know how it works," a bored-sounding warrior said. "We've been doing this for over a year now."

"Oh." The self-important wolf sounded a little crestfallen. "As long as we all know what we're doing."

"Yes sir," the wolf said tonelessly. Clearly the young wolf hadn't held his rank for long. The warriors around him shifted restlessly, the ill-discipline a clear sign of the lack of respect they had for him. An experienced wolf would have used his higher rank to squash that by now.

"Wait here," the ranking wolf said, trying to make his boyish voice sound gruff. "I'll go and scout ahead." He padded off through the trees, his paws snapping twigs and crunching leaves as he went.

Blake cringed. Rogues would hear him a mile away.

"What a jackass," one of the two warriors in human form muttered out loud to his companions. A chuckle rippled through the group.

"Grow up, Smithy," the other, old, grey-haired warrior said, shifting his load to rest on a nearby fallen tree. "They pay us to obey their orders and keep our opinions to ourselves. Just do your job and leave opinions to higher-ranking wolves."

The warrior grunted sourly. "I tasked with guarding the pack house yesterday," he said. "Alpha Syrus summoned all the patrol leaders up there. Would you believe he was actually fawning all over that bastard of his?"

"That's what ranking wolves do best.' The old warrior shrugged. "They kiss arse and hope to garner favour with the Alpha... and the bastard is the next in line for the title, after all. I'm not sure if it makes his arse taste any better, but the high-ranking wolves must all have had a good lick by now."

The wolves all laughed. "You're on the money there, my friend. But wouldn't he be surprised if the Alpha's real son returned and he found out he'd been sucking up for nothing?"

"You'd better hope he doesn't," one of the other wolves muttered through the link. "If he takes control of the pack, Syrus will blame us for the attack."

"He could put in a good word."

"Not without implicating himself, he couldn't. Do you really think he'll risk it for the likes of us?"

"All right you lot," The young Lieutenant called out of the fog. "Look lively, there's no sign of the escort yet so you'd better go and take up your positions."

"You heard him," the old man said. "Get moving." The wolves padded silently off into the fog, slowly followed by the two warriors, their bundles slung over their shoulders.

Blake smiled briefly in the darkness. It was seldom that he had the opportunity to hear the casual conversations of wolves from another pack. It appeared many of Syrus's warriors were motivated more by self-preservation than any sense of loyalty to their Alpha.

Asher slunk up to lie next to him in the leaves. "Always useful when they start chatting amongst themselves isn't it?" He spoke through the pack link, his sharp eyes scanning the woodland around them to make sure they were alone.

"Did you catch the part about his son?" Blake asked.

"Naturally," Asher replied. How to listen in on foreign pack links had been one of the earliest lessons their father had taught them. "I was under the impression he'd died."

"So was I," Blake said bleakly. "What do you know about the bastard?"

"Not much," Asher admitted. "He turned up just over a year ago. The result of an affair Syrus had with a wolf from another pack according to rumours. I get the impression he's not very well liked."

"Neither is Syrus, amongst the lower ranking wolves anyway."

His wolf snorted an agreement. How much respect could you have for an Alpha that cheated on his own mate?

"Well," Asher murmured. "You're about to have an audience with them both so, put your patient face on."

Blake grunted and turned his attention to his warriors. He'd chosen three to accompany him to the meeting.

As expected, Syrus had been eager to accommodate a member of the famous Hunter family - he knew his own reputation would rise simply by association with them. But he was a proud man and the delegation had been chosen carefully to accommodate his ego.

Firstly, a young and eager warrior of medium rank, Charlie had been recommended to him by Alex for his good-natured and easy to get along with personality.

"As a bonus, he already has a mate," Alex had informed him while they were discussing his suitability. "I've heard Syrus is particularly possessive over the unmated females in his pack... Charlie won't ring any alarm bells for him."

"Good point," Blake said, quietly impressed by his Gamma's insight. "But can he fight?"

"He's one of the best!" Alex assured him proudly, "I'm training him personally. He's young and inexperienced, I admit but, I promise you; he'll have your back if you need him, Alpha."

Their second choice, Simon, was a highly-ranked wolf that Blake had fought beside many times before. He was experienced, confident and used to the social minefield of inter-pack relations. His highly decorated status should ease Syrus's ego enough not to notice that Blake hadn't brought either of his lieutenants along.

His final choice, after much consideration was Samuel, the oldest wolf in the pack and he hadn't been eager to be pulled out of retirement.

"No disrespect, Alpha but, what do you want me for? I'm creaky, I'm cranky... I'm too old to be much use in a fight!" Samuel had protested when Blake sought him out.

"Your age is precisely why I need you," Blake said bluntly, quietly sympathetic of the old wolf's desire to be left alone. "You served my father for years - he always spoke very highly of you."

"I thought we'd already had a conversation establishing the chasm between truth and reality?" Samuel muttered sourly, ignoring the frantic whining from his wolf. "I'm no use to you now."

Blake smiled, also ignoring Rothan's answering growl. "You know the Elmwood pack of old." He began to tick off the points on his fingers. "Your own mate was born there and you lived there yourself for a few years after you were first mated."

Samuel pulled a face, and Rothan's growl deepened.

"You know the layout of the territory, their history and their idiosyncrasies," Blake continued, unperturbed by the old wolf's stubbornness. "Your insight will be invaluable. You won't be a fighter. You'll be there in an advisory capacity, that's all. After all," he concluded. "You knew the old Alpha, and you know the son. If there's trouble brewing, you'll see it before I do."

There was another reason as well. Although of lower rank, presenting Samuel as an advisor implied heavily that he acted as Elder for their pack. It was a push, but should be enough to convince Syrus of his importance and get them by. Samuel had bowed his head in defeat, a rueful sparkle in his stubborn brown eyes, and Rothan had crowed with victorious delight in his head.

Pulling his mind back to the present, he scanned the surrounding forest. They would return to human form just before dawn. Their clothes had been safely tucked away amongst the gifts Blake had brought for the peace ritual at the border. Choosing not to bring one of the Omegas with them, they'd rolled everything as tightly as possible and taken it in turns to haul the two bags in their mouths.

As the night wore on and they settled down to wait, the faint streaks of moonlight struggled to penetrate the canopy of heavy fog creating long, bony fingers that crept around the trees and pointed at the hidden wolves accusingly.

The constant moisture soaked through their thick fur and left them all as damp and uncomfortable as the border guards had appeared and they were forced to remain constantly alert - both for the warriors of Elmwood and any rogues that might be lingering nearby. Overall, it was an uncomfortable night and Blake wasn't sorry to slip behind one of the trees to shift into dry, warm clothing as dawn approached.

The other three members of his group: Issac, Asher and Marcus, would cross the border before the sun came up. Taking full advantage of the lingering fog, they would enter the pack under the cover of the masking powder Ethan had so helpfully provided. With any luck, it would allow them to gather information Syrus may have no intention of sharing.

Issac would infiltrate the pack house - close enough to give his Alpha some much needed back up should trouble arise. There he could listen in on the younger wolves.

"Try not to flirt too much," Blake had warned his eager warrior. "I know it's second nature to you but now is not the time to draw attention to yourself... they're particularly protective over their females. Remember, they won't pay much attention to you if you stay in the background."

Marcus would head into the lower village and mingle with the Omegas and low-ranking wolves.

"Workers like to talk freely when out of sight of the higher ranks," Marcus had noted. "A few drinks for the right pack members and I'll pick up more information about the inner workings of the pack than Syrus is even aware that they know." He would rely heavily on the masking powder to hide his status as Beta... that, and a carefully concocted story of a high-ranking wolf falling out of favour with the Alpha.

Finally, Asher would take on the more dangerous task of attempting to break into the Alpha's private offices and root through his records. Admittedly, it wouldn't be the first time Asher had infiltrated the main house in this pack but this time it was crucial no one knew he'd been there.

Blake had the utmost confidence that Asher could pull it off... if Blake could successfully play his part and keep Syrus suitably distracted.

He looked at the three of them. "Be careful," he cautioned. "Don't let your instincts run away with you. I need information, yes. But don't stir up trouble getting it for me." He looked pointedly at Asher. "Don't complicate things just for the fun of it. You don't have to live near this pack."

"Trust me, brother," Asher replied with a bland smile.

Blake looked at his impromptu spy network and shook his head. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" he muttered.

"I'll keep an eye on them, Blake," Asher promised.

"Of course, but who's going to keep an eye on you?"

His brother winked at him and cautiously approached the invisible border line. Sniffing in disapproval at the - only very faint - scent that ran around the perimeter, he took the deciding step over the line. No going back now.

Marcus and Issac followed slowly, on constant alert for any movement that might give them away. Marcus cast one last look over his shoulder at his Alpha before the fog claimed them and the forest fell eerily silent once again.

"Come on," Blake murmured softly to his companions and they began to pick their way towards the agreed crossover. He squinted up at the canopy of trees above him. Dawn was fast approaching but there was no sign that the smothering miasma would lift any time soon. For once he hoped the sun would take its time burning off the fog and allow the others to safely infiltrate the pack. Getting out again would be a whole other matter.

Stop worrying, Rothan told him. You're putting my fur on edge.

Worrying is what I do, Blake muttered. Tell me this isn't the craziest thing we've ever done?

I'd love to... his wolf replied. But I'd be lying.