The Awkward Reunion

Aria POV

The Northgate Community Center reeked of old coffee and harsh disinfectant, with an undercurrent of tension that made my wolf shift restlessly beneath my skin. I arrived fifteen minutes ahead of time, a product of my hunting past, where tardiness could lead to fatal consequences, and used that time to examine the exits, assess possible threats, and select a seat that kept my back against the wall, allowing me to see both entrances clearly. 

Marcus referred to it as professional paranoia. I considered it a means of survival. The conference room was bland enough to fit in anywhere in America: beige walls, fluorescent lights that rendered everyone a touch sickly, and a lengthy table surrounded by mismatched chairs that had definitely seen better years. Not quite the sort of venue you'd expect for organizing a hunt for a supernatural serial killer, but Marcus preferred neutral territory for inter-pack discussions. 

Smart move. Put a bunch of territorial predators in an actual territory, and you’d spend more time diffusing dominance displays than discussing the matter at hand. As I was going over the case files on my tablet, the initial pack delegates began to arrive. Alpha Catherine Stone from the Olympic Peninsula entered as if she owned the place, which was pretty much her default mode. In her mid-forties, with steel-gray hair pulled back into a severe bun, she possessed a presence that made other wolves instinctively stand aside. She acknowledged me with a professional nod, we had collaborated on a rogue issue two years prior. 

"Blackwood," she stated, taking a seat across from me. "I heard you’re consulting on this mess. Good. We need someone savvy about how these bastards think." 

"Alpha Stone." I kept my tone impartial, professional. Catherine was one of the few pack leaders who had never given me trouble due to my rogue status, but that didn’t mean I was ready to lower my guard. "Any updates since Marcus distributed the files?" 

"Two additional bodies were discovered this morning. Beta-level wolves from different packs, but both were in line for alpha succession." Her expression darkened. "Whoever is behind this is broadening their target list." 

Eight dead. The figure made my stomach twist, both from the professional ramifications and the personal ones. A killer specifically targeting werewolf leadership with such precision wasn’t going to stop until caught or until they exhausted their list of targets. The door swung open again, and Marcus Chen entered carrying a laptop bag and what appeared to be three different coffee cups. He looked like he hadn't slept in a long time, which was likely true given the vastness of this investigation. 

"Aria, great to see you here early. Catherine, I appreciate you coming." He placed the coffee cups on the table and began extracting files from his bag. "The others should be here soon. I want to begin as soon as possible. There’s been another development." 

"Other than the two new bodies?" I inquired. 

"Other than those. I received a call from the FBI's Supernatural Crimes Division an hour ago. They’re officially taking over the investigation." 

The silence that followed that announcement was thick with meaning. The FBI's Supernatural Crimes Division only intervened when local supernatural law enforcement was considered inadequate to manage a threat. This indicated either that the killer had escalated beyond what Marcus's group could handle or someone with significant political influence had decided this case required federal involvement. 

"How long do we have before they take full control?" Catherine asked. 

"Forty-eight hours, maybe less. That’s why I arranged this meeting. If we’re going to solve this case, we need to act quickly and collaborate."

The door swung open for the third time, and I felt every muscle in my body tighten as two figures entered the room. I instantly recognized the beta, Damien Cross, with his dark hair and steady brown eyes that had always seemed to perceive too much. He had become more muscular in the three years since I last saw him, solidly built, but his face still bore the same blend of loyalty and quiet intelligence that had made him Kieran's most trusted advisor. 

And following him... 

Time appeared to slow as Kieran Steele stepped into the conference room, and I was transported back to when I was nineteen, breathless and dizzy from the moment I first laid eyes on him at a pack gathering. Yet I wasn’t nineteen anymore, and the breathlessness stemmed from anger instead of desire. 

He seemed older. That was my first clear thought. The boy who had spurned me three years ago was twenty-five, still exhibiting some of the softness of youth despite his alpha role. The man now standing in the doorway was composed of sharp angles and controlled strength, with glimmers of silver decorating his black hair and lines around his steely blue eyes that hinted at sleepless nights and significant burdens. 

He remained the most stunning man I had ever seen, which was precisely the kind of dangerous thought that could lead to my demise in my line of work. 

Our gazes connected across the room, and I noticed something flicker in his expression: surprise, recognition, and something that resembled pain. For a fleeting moment, his carefully maintained alpha facade faltered, revealing the man underneath. The man who had once cradled me as if I were a treasure, who had whispered promises against my skin in the dark hours of dawn. 

The man who had declared in front of two hundred pack members that I wasn't worthy of being his mate. 

I maintained a neutral expression, professional and completely unaffected. Three years of battling monsters had taught me how to conceal my feelings behind a mask of cool competence. I refused to let Kieran Steele witness the extent of his impact on me. 

"Alpha Steele," I spoke, my tone steady and courteous. "Damien. Thank you for being here." 

Kieran's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly at my formal address, but he quickly regained his composure. Probably from alpha training. Can’t allow other predators to detect weakness. 

"Ms. Blackwood," he responded, his voice reflecting the same careful politeness. "I've been informed you're consulting on this case. We value your expertise." 

Ms. Blackwood. Not Aria, not even Blackwood as it had been when we were part of the pack. The formal distance in his voice should have been exactly what I desired. Instead, it felt like yet another small rejection, another reminder that whatever we had once shared was now irrevocably lost. 

Good. Lost was far safer for everyone concerned. 

Marcus cleared his throat, seemingly aware of the tension that was saturating the room like smoke. "Now that everyone is present, let’s begin. Aria, I’ve forwarded you the files on the two new victims. The same MO as the others, ritualistic killings, ancient werewolf symbols carved into the chests, and detailed knowledge of the victims' routines and security." 

I accessed the new files on my tablet, thankful for something to concentrate on other than the way Kieran’s presence seemed to deplete all the oxygen in the room. The crime scene images were gruesome but informative; whoever was responsible had training in both werewolf anatomy and ancient ritual practices.

"The symbols," I remarked, scrutinizing the illustrations. "They’re not merely ornamental. This represents a specific sequence of rituals, aimed to..." I hesitated, trying to recall the ancient teachings I'd absorbed during my first year as a hunter. "To disconnect a werewolf from their pack."

"Disconnect how?" Catherine inquired.

"Spiritually. In ancient times, before modern pack hierarchies, werewolves believed that slaying an alpha while performing this ritual would transfer their power and pack ties to the slayer." I lifted my gaze from the tablet. "It’s complete folly from a practical perspective, pack ties don’t operate that way. Yet someone holds enough faith in the old traditions to murder them."

Kieran leaned in, his focus entirely on the investigation now. Regardless of our complicated history, he was alpha enough to prioritize the pack's safety above personal issues.

"Are you suggesting this goes beyond merely removing leadership?" he asked. "The murderer believes they’re acquiring something."

"Precisely. This indicates they won’t halt at random victims. They’re aiming for something specific, either a particular alpha they wish to derive power from or a ritual requiring a specified number of deaths."

"How many deaths are needed?" Damien inquired softly.

I navigated through the ritual explanations stored in my memory, recalling fragmented lessons from hunters specialized in ancient supernatural practices.

"A traditional ritual calls for nine deaths for it to be complete," I explained. "Three alphas, three betas, and three significant pack members. As of now, we’ve reached a total of eight, which means."

"One more death will finalize whatever they’re attempting to achieve," Marcus concluded somberly.

The ensuing silence bore the weight of the ramifications. Out there, a murderer was merely one kill away from completing a ritual that might be ineffective in reality but would undoubtedly lead to more werewolf casualties. And judging by the escalating pattern, that last victim would likely be someone of great importance.

"There’s one more thing," I said, locking eyes with Kieran for the first time since he entered the room. "All the victims thus far have been linked to significant pack political decisions within the last five years. Alpha Morrison was part of the Territorial Council that brokered the Vancouver agreements. Alpha Rodriguez played a key role in the mating alliance between the California packs. Alpha Chen spearheaded the opposition to rogue sanctuary initiatives."

I observed Kieran's expression change as he absorbed the implications. He was astute enough to recognize where this was heading, savvy enough to understand that his own political choices might have placed him directly in the killer’s crosshairs.

"The Crescent Moon rejection," he said quietly.

"Was one of the most significant political decisions in recent Pacific Northwest pack history," I affirmed, maintaining a steady tone through sheer determination. "It dismantled a potential alliance between three major packs and established a precedent for political marriages over mate bonds. If the murderer is targeting wolves involved in crucial political choices..."

"Then Kieran's a key target," Damien noted, instinctively reaching for the concealed weapon I knew he possessed.

Catherine Stone observed both of us with the sort of astute intelligence that has helped her lead as alpha for over a decade. "This is personal for you," she stated, framing it as a statement rather than a question.

"Everything regarding pack politics is personal," I countered. "That’s what renders it so perilous."

It wasn't precisely a fabrication, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. The complete truth was that being in this room with Kieran, talking about the potential that someone might want to kill him, was tightening my chest with feelings I thought I had buried long ago. The complete truth was that no matter what he had done to me, the thought of him lying dead with ancient symbols carved into his skin stirred a protective fury in my wolf. The complete truth was that I was still in love with the man who had devastated me, and that vulnerability could endanger us both. 

Marcus was laying out crime scene photos across the table, establishing a timeline of murders that clearly illustrated a growing pattern and intent. "According to the trend, our killer will strike again within the next seventy-two hours. They won’t wait for the FBI to take over; they'll want to finish their ritual before federal agents can disrupt their plans." 

"Which means we need to ascertain who their next target is," Kieran stated. 

"We already know who their next target is," I countered, locking eyes with him across the table. "The real question is whether you're courageous enough to allow me to use you as a decoy." 

The challenge lingered between us, heavy with three years of shared history and enough unresolved tension to energize all of Seattle. Kieran's steel-blue gaze met mine, and for an instant, I glimpsed beyond the alpha facade to the person beneath, stubborn, protective, and still bearing the burden of decisions that had shattered both our hearts. 

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.