CHAPTER 4 ALPHA ELENA

I had already stepped away from the wall before Diana turned the corner. My expression was calm and unreadable.

Diana froze, her eyes moving between Cage and me. Her face turned pale, then flushed red with anger.

I stood quietly, giving nothing away.

"What is this?" Diana demanded, her voice shaking with her balled-up fists at her side. One of her rings caught the light as her fist tightened further and a muscle in Cage's jaw ticked once before he answered, the same tell she used to know from five years of watching his face for warmth that wasn't there anymore. "Five years, Cage. Five years I've lived in this house, and you won't even mark me. Then she arrives, and you're pinning her against a wall?"

He never marked her.

The realization hit me hard. Diana was supposed to be the reason he abandoned me. The political alliance. The woman he chose.

So why hadn't he claimed her?

I pushed the thought away before it could break through the walls I'd spent five years building.

"Diana, enough," Cage said firmly, his voice low and laced with a heavy Alpha warning. He took a deliberate step toward her to close the distance "Control yourself. This isn't what it looks like. Alpha Elena and I were discussing a security issue."

Diana laughed bitterly. "A dispute? In the dark?"

Cage gently but firmly took her arm. "Go back to your room. We'll talk later. Not here."

Watching him calm her down and protect her feelings hurt more than it should. It was exactly what I'd wanted him to do for me five years ago. I bit down on the same spot inside my cheek until I tasted blood. It cleared my head enough to think straight.

I let the silence stretch for a moment.

"The northern ridge was breached," I said smoothly. "I'll be in the strategy room. Don't keep me waiting, Alpha."

Then I walked away, not looking back once. Behind me, Diana’s voice carried on, though it was lower now and muffled by Cage’s chest.

As soon as I turned the corner, I stopped, leaned against the cold stone wall and closed my eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then I pushed away from the wall and headed to the room.

I arrived first, opened my laptop and buried myself in the breach reports.

For five years, work had been my escape. Whenever the past caught up with me, I buried myself in reports and strategy.

Louisa arrived shortly after. At one look, she sat silently beside me, opening her own computer.

Ten minutes passed, and I finally spoke.

"He never marked her," I whispered.

My fingers kept typing, but the words slipped out anyway.

Louisa’s hands froze on her keyboard. As the only person alive who knew the entire truth, she knew exactly how that single piece of information messed up my initial revenge plans.

"Astrid," Louisa said softly.

"Five years," I continued. "She's lived here for five years, and she's still unmarked. He didn’t take her as Luna"

Louisa's expression hardened.

"You can't think about that right now,” she warned, her voice dropping to a fierce, protective whisper. She reached over and placed a hand over mine, the same way she did that night. “You're in Blackwood territory. You're Alpha Elena. Focus on the mission."

"The mission," I repeated.

"Yes." Louisa didn't look up from her screen. "The one where you ruin them. Not the one where you find out if he still—"

"Don't."

She finally looked at me. "Then don't ask me to pretend I didn't hear you say his name like that."

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. I didn't answer. There was nothing left to say that she hadn't already guessed.

I took a slow breath, burying the girl who wanted to cry under the Alpha who needed to lead. Then I forced myself to look back at the map. Twenty minutes later, Cage walked into the room. I didn't look up.

He sat at the opposite end of the table, opened a file and began working.

Soon, more officers joined us, including two of my senior guards, followed by Gamma Gideon and another Blackwood officer.

For three hours, we analyzed attack patterns, the room lit only by the map glowing blue across the table and the dying light of an old lamp in the corner, and eventually, I broke the silence.

"They're not trying to take territory." I displayed a map of rogue movements. "Look at the attacks. They strike, fight for ten minutes, then retreat. They never try to advance."

Cage studied the screen, narrowing his gaze. "They're testing our defenses."

"It's more specific than that," I corrected. "It’s more of a hunt. They aren’t looking for a weakness in the border but rather a specific target inside the compound. They're measuring response times to figure out which area is least protected."

Cage went still as he pulled up the patrol logs, scanning the information. His pen stopped moving. He set it down beside the file, carefully, like it might make a sound. Working together felt unsettlingly natural.

"The east wing," he said grimly. "Every retreat path leads toward the eastern canyon. They're trying to reach the guest quarters."

My quarters.

"Increase security on the canyon," I ordered. "Nobody sleeps unarmed."

Eventually everyone left. It was past three in the morning. Louisa left last, pausing at the door with a look that told me one thing: Focus.

Cage and I were left in the room, and after a while, I closed my laptop and stood up to leave.

"Who taught you the eastern flank manoeuvre?" Cage asked.

I stopped. He hadn’t moved from his seat at the end of the table.

"Alpha Garrick," I replied smoothly.

Cage stood.

"Garrick preferred brute force. That manoeuvre uses a dropped shoulder and pivoting heel. It's a Blackwood technique. I created it."

My heart skipped.

"There are only so many ways to break a man's knee," I replied calmly. "Combat styles overlap."

I headed for the door but Cage moved faster.

He stepped into my path, close enough for the heat of his body to wake the mate bond all over again.

"Move," I warned quietly.

He didn't. Instead, his eyes drifted to my neck.

The room was warm. We had been working for hours, and I felt sweat sliding down my skin.

Cage leaned closer and before I could do anything, he inhaled.

Every muscle in my body locked.

"What is that?" he asked softly.

He rubbed his thumb across the scent-masking oil on my neck.

Then he looked at the residue on his fingers.

"It's an extract," he said slowly. "You're masking your scent."

My pulse thundered.

Cage stepped closer until his chest brushed mine. He inhaled again, deeper this time. I should have stepped back, but the bond held me in place.

His face went completely pale. AT the back of my mind, I heard the quiet yet clear whimper of my wolf.

"Underneath the oil..." he whispered.

His voice cracked.

"...you don't have a scent at all."