Four

MORGAN'S POV

Meetings are overrated. Especially here. A bunch of twenty-something old wolves arguing over whether we should be strategic, or break things until someone apologises and backs off. I call them meetings to sound fancy.

I’m at the head of the table, because tradition right? Comfy trackpants and a t-shirt, fluffy socks to match the tough Alpha energy. James slides into the chair across from me like he belongs there. Calm, measured, the one who turns chaos into spreadsheets like its fun.

Evelyn strolls in, curls bouncing, laptop perched on her hip, food in the other hand. My Cypher. “Babe,” she chirps, flashing me a grin, “humans and rogues are sharing comms. Coordinated. Threatening, but cute.”

“Cute?” I ask.

“Terrifying, but cute,” she amends, perfectly satisfied.

Ah. Brilliant. Apparently surviving the apocalypse isn’t enough — now they need teamwork.

Lou bursts in like the world owes him a fight. Head of Enforcers. Broad, trigger-happy, permanently ready to throw someone through a wall. “We hit them first?”

I pin him with my eyes. “Lou. If you hit them first, the rest of us clean up your mess. Not optional.”

He grins. “But that’s why I love this job.”

Sebastian leans against the wall, arms crossed, calm, dangerous, magnetic. Our bond hums low under the surface, like a consistent pulse of electricity.

“Let me get this straight,” he mutters. “They’ve got timing, coordination, and think we’ll freak out. Again.”

“They’re testing supply lines,” Evelyn says.

James taps his fingers. “We can’t let them find a weak pack. One mistake and the ripple effect—”

“…kills everyone,” I finish. “I know.”

Evelyn smirks. “Babe, I’ll keep tabs on chatter. Small stuff. Just enough to know if someone’s waving a red flag.”

Lou snorts. “Small stuff, big stuff — doesn’t matter. We should just barge in and break things.”

“Dude chill,” I sigh, “remember the warehouse last night? Your heroic display scared off any chance of useful intel before Evelyn could get it.”

“Technicality,” he says. “They were intimidated.”

“Also true,” Evelyn chimes, mock-sweet. “Babe, now I have to work extra because of your intimidation tactics.”

I salute Lou jokingly. “Congratulations. You’ve been promoted to Chaos Ambassador. Your first task: stop breaking things before intel shows up.”

He pouts. “Fine. But if anyone sneezes wrong, I’m still biting them.”

I roll my eyes and a scoff comes from the back of the room.

Kieran shifts in his corner, silent, brooding, and somehow more intimidating just by existing. Head of my Shadows. “You make my job harder,” he grunts.

Lou grins. “Aw poor baby has to work instead of reading dark romance books at midnight?”

Kieran freezes, jaw tightening, his eyes glow gold. “I do not—”

“—read romantic garbage,” he finishes, voice clipped, eyes returning to thre dark brown. He takes a deep breath.

I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me. Evelyn cackles. Lou smirks like he just landed the best punchline of the century. Even Sebastian tries to hide a smirk. Kieran’s face is priceless, bright red for a guy who’s usually stoic.

I wave a hand. “Focus, children. Humans and rogues are coordinated. That’s our problem. Kieran get the guys to watch deliveries, Evelyn keeps one eye on chatter, Lou… hands in pockets until I say otherwise, okay?”

Lou groans but nods, sulky but obedient. Kieran mutters something about “professional boundaries” while still simmering. Evelyn just winks at me.

”Boss we also have the pack Alpha’s coming by this week” James reminds me as we start to dismiss.

I groan my head hitting the table with a solid thud. “A bunch of middle-aged Alpha’s, coming in kissing ass? My favourite”