49

ALEXANDER

There were only so many places Isiah could run where we couldn’t reach him. And considering the fact that his father brought him here, I’m guessing this is the last place he wants to be right now. Still, if his first instinct was to run, then he damn well knew he messed up.

And now? He’d interrupted my time with Alina.

Which meant he had even more to pay for.

I met Claude outside the house. He looked like he was ready to tear the damn sky apart.

“Take it easy. We’ll find him,” I said, patting his shoulder as I walked ahead of the guys waiting for us.

Some of them were already deep in the woods, combing through the trees. I had the Gamma making calls to every Alpha and all the Lycans we’ve got on the streets. If anyone spotted him, they were under orders to put him down just not kill him.

I needed him alive.

Because nothing screams guilty like running from a few questions. I hadn’t even planned to interrogate him at first. It didn’t feel necessary.

But now? Now I’d rough him up a little just for screwing up my night.

After that, I’d leave him to Claude. The bastard almost got him killed. Whatever’s between them, they can settle it however they want. As far as I’m concerned, that’s none of my business.

When we first took over the pack, one of the first things we focused on was keeping track of everything that went on.

A King should know every inch of his kingdom and what’s happening in it. But one man can only see so much.

I mean, I can multitask, but I’m not about to babysit the whole damn territory myself. There were bigger things that needed my attention. And wasting time in back-to-back surveillance briefings wasn’t something I had the patience for.

That’s how the Watch House came to be. Just like it sounds, it watches. Every corner of the pack is monitored.

Obviously, if people saw cameras everywhere, they’d be more careful. So unless you’re one of my most trusted, you don’t even know the cameras exist.

Killian, paranoid bastard that he is, designed them. He doesn’t trust a soul. Which, ironically, is why he’s so damn good at security. His company runs on the same principle: don’t trust anyone. His cameras? Untraceable. They blend right into the trees, the walls, whatever’s nearby. Unlike those loud-ass CCTV setups screaming, “I’m watching you,” Liam’s tech disappears into the background.

These cameras don’t just record, they scan. The moment they catch you, they run a background check and save your data. So no matter who steps into our land, we know exactly where they are at all times.

And keeping the cameras secret? It makes people reckless. They get comfortable, thinking they’re safe. That’s when they slip up. Or they get cocky and think they can outsmart us.

Spoiler: they can’t.

We’ve caught so many doing shady shit. They all deny it at first. Then they break. They always break.

We left the house with about ten guys. Not counting Claude and me. Right now, only two are still with us. The rest are spread out, covering every entry point.

The Watch House is a simple tower, built in the last place anyone would expect, smack in the middle of the pack. It looks like a plain utility building. Most people don’t even go near it. Which makes it the perfect place to run everything from behind the scenes.

Claude and I reached the door. The others held back. I keyed in the code, and we stepped into the elevator together. He scanned his fingerprint, and the lift started moving.

The thing about Killian’s paranoia? It’s thorough. He’s the kind of guy who has a plan for what to do if every single person in his life betrays him. Exhausting, but useful.

When the elevator doors slid open, the only two people allowed up here besides Claude and me turned to face us.

Steven. Twenty-seven. Still young, but he’s lived through more shit than most men double his age.

“Alpha,” he greeted, expression as flat as ever.

I could count on one hand how many times I’ve seen that man smile. Barely speaks. Just sticks to simple, short responses.

He used to be military. Left his pack, found his way here. I saw something in him, took him in, trained him myself. When he was ready, I brought him here.

No family. No attachments. No plans to ever settle down. And the man’s an insomniac. He’ll go three days straight without blinking. Even when he does sleep, two hours is enough. How do I know? I tested him.

His partner, Jared, is twenty-two. He grew up on the streets after a broken pack fell in with a human gang. He was just looking for a place to belong. I gave him one.

No family. Nothing to lose. But that boy is loyal as hell.

I don’t trust a lot of people. But Steven and Jared? They’ve earned it. Alongside my brother, they’re the only ones I’d even consider trusting. Killian might be on that list, but only barely. I wouldn’t sleep peacefully in a room alone with him, that’s for damn sure.

“Been a while, Alpha. Found yourself a new hot thing?” Jared asked, smirking.

Anyone else would’ve earned a punch to the face for that comment. But Jared? He’s like my kid. I just rolled my eyes. Steven muttered a curse under his breath, calling him out for his big mouth.

I don’t know how they haven’t killed each other being stuck up here all the time. They’re opposites. Steven’s trauma made him tired of life, while Jared’s made him grateful for it.

I used to wonder if they’d make it work. It’s been years now. They figured it out.

“She’s real pretty, sir,” Jared added with a wink, clearly talking about Alina.

Good. That means they’ve been watching closely.

They’ve got one more thing in common: they’re both freakishly good with computers. I tested that too. Hacked systems, planted bugs, tried breaking through firewalls they blocked it all.

“A kid ran from the dungeon. Find him for me,” I ordered simply.

That’s all they needed.

“On it,” Jared replied