THE MISUNDERSTOOD BLUEPRINT

I had barely reached my bedroom when two guards blocked the corridor.

“Lady Vane. The Alpha requests your presence.”

Of course he did. Apparently, irritating me was becoming his favorite pastime.

“Can it wait until morning?”

“No, my lady.”

I glanced toward the east wing. If Valen had found those notes, I was in trouble. If he hadn't, I might still have time to retrieve them before someone decided they were evidence of treason.

“Give me a moment.”

The guards exchanged glances.

I smiled. “Unless you've been ordered to drag me there, in which case, try not to wrinkle my dress.”

Neither smiled.

The moment they turned toward the staircase, I slipped through a side passage leading to Valen's office. I knew the layout from the novel, including the private entrance that was usually locked.

Tonight, it stood open.

Valen sat behind his desk, studying the paper I'd come to retrieve. A second sheet lay beside his hand.

My stomach sank.

He looked up without surprise. “Looking for something, Sylvie?”

I could have lied, but the guards were already approaching behind me.

“Yes, actually.”

“Your survival instincts are either impressive or nonexistent.”

“I'm still developing them.”

He tapped the paper. “Explain this.”

I stepped closer, careful not to look too interested in the list of border vulnerabilities. I'd written it after remembering the attack that would devastate the northern settlement during the Blood Moon ceremony.

In the original story, hundreds died because nobody noticed the weakness in time.

I wasn't going to let that happen.

“It's a proposal.”

“For dismantling my territory's defenses?”

“For improving them.”

Valen leaned back. “You've listed patrol rotations, supply shortages, blind spots, and restricted information about the eastern gate. You expect me to believe you stumbled across all this by accident?”

“I expect you to read the recommendations before deciding I'm guilty of something.”

His eyes hardened. “You're in my office after midnight, trying to recover a document you clearly didn't want me to see.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds terrible.”

“Because it is.”

“Would you rather leave the eastern gate vulnerable?”

That silenced him.

I pointed to the paper. “Your patrols leave a gap during the Blood Moon ceremony. Move two teams from the inner courtyard and stagger the eastern watch. You'll cover the opening without weakening the central grounds.”

He studied the figures.

I watched his expression change, just slightly, as he checked the calculations. That tiny shift gave me more hope than it should have.

“And the northern watchtower?” he asked.

“Repair it. Add overlapping patrols near the river crossing.”

“Those routes aren't public knowledge.”

“Neither is the fact that the watchtower roof is falling apart, but anyone with eyes can see that.”

His gaze snapped to mine.

I wished I hadn't said that. It was true, but I was beginning to suspect truth wasn't especially useful when dealing with an Alpha who treated every conversation like an interrogation.

“You've also recommended additional medical supplies at the southern outpost.” He lifted the second sheet. “Winter is months away. Why?”

“Because supplies don't magically appear when people start getting sick.”

“You've never shown an interest in pack welfare.”

“Maybe I got tired of being useless.”

The words came out sharper than I'd intended. For a moment, the room went quiet.

Valen set the paper down. “Or perhaps someone is using you to weaken my territory.”

I stared at him, anger rising beneath my nerves. “You really can't imagine me doing anything without assuming there's a scheme behind it?”

“Your past gives me little reason to trust you.”

“I'm aware of my past, thank you. I was there.”

His jaw tightened, but I continued before he could interrupt.

“I know what people think of me. I know I've given them reasons. But if I bring you something useful, you accuse me of treason. If I leave people alone, you assume I'm plotting. What exactly am I supposed to do?”

For once, he didn't have an immediate answer.

I hated how much that mattered to me.

His gaze dropped to the document again. “Your calculations are correct. I confirmed the eastern gate's coverage gap tonight.”

My heart stumbled.

“And your proposed patrol arrangement would protect the river crossing without leaving the northern perimeter exposed,” he added. “My commanders missed that.”

“Then perhaps you should promote the paper.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?”

“I came here to save myself from an accusation of treason. I'm taking it very seriously.”

“By sneaking into my office?”

“I was hoping to avoid this exact conversation.”

He moved around the desk, stopping close enough that I caught the clean scent of cedar beneath his wolfish warmth. His eyes searched my face, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was looking for something I couldn't afford to let him find.

“Where did you learn to think like this?”

I forced a shrug. “I pay attention.”

“To military logistics?”

“To problems that get people killed.”

The answer slipped out before I could stop it.

His expression changed. The suspicion remained, but something else had entered it, something quieter.

“You seem personally invested in preventing these attacks.”

“Wouldn't you be?”

“Most people don't risk breaking into my office for a hypothetical threat.”

“Most people don't have you breathing down their necks every time they try to do something useful.”

He stepped closer. I held my ground, though my pulse was becoming ridiculous.

“You're either remarkably brave,” he murmured, “or you have no understanding of the danger you're in.”

“Maybe I'm tired of being afraid of you.”

His gaze flickered to my mouth.

For one absurd second, I forgot the paper, the guards, and the fact that this man could have me locked away before sunrise.

Then his hand lifted toward my face.

I stiffened.

He stopped before touching me. His expression tightened, and he lowered his hand.

“I'm not going to hurt you.”

“You keep saying that while threatening to arrest me.”

“Because you keep giving me reasons to consider it.”

“Fair enough.”

The faintest hint of amusement touched his eyes, but it vanished as he returned to his desk.

“Your assessment could prevent a serious breach,” he said. “If your intentions are genuine, you may be useful to this pack.”

Relief loosened my chest.

Then he picked up the folder.

“You'll explain every recommendation to my commanders.”

My relief died.

“Every recommendation?”

“Every one.”

“I'm not a military strategist, Valen. I wrote this because I noticed weaknesses.”

“Then explain how you identified them.”

“I just did.”

“And you'll do it again tomorrow.”

He closed the folder before I could argue.

“Eight o'clock. Pack Defense Logistics Committee. You'll work under my direct supervision until I understand how you acquired this knowledge.”

I stared at him. “You're assigning me a job?”

“Think of it as an opportunity to prove your innocence.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I'll assume you have something to hide.”

I wanted to throw the folder at his head. Instead, I forced a smile.

“Wonderful. I've always dreamed of spending my mornings being interrogated by an overgrown wolf.”

His laugh escaped before he could suppress it.

It changed his face, making him look younger and dangerously more attractive. I hated noticing. I hated even more that he seemed to notice me noticing.

“Eight o'clock, Sylvie.”

“I heard you the first time.”

I swept toward the door, determined to leave with whatever dignity I had left.

“Next time you want something from my office,” he called after me, “knock.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Next time, lock the door.”

His smile followed me into the corridor.

Tomorrow, I'd have to explain knowledge I had no right to possess. And if I failed, Valen would finally have the evidence he needed to destroy me.