Chapter 3

Alpha Riven – POV

The second Damian walked into the room, the temperature dropped ten fucking degrees.

The guy had a storm cloud stitched to his shoulders and a look on his face like he'd murder us all just for breathing too loud.

I didn't flinch. Didn't move. I didn't come here to play nice or bow my head to anyone—not even the big bad Alpha of Ironclaw.

He threw a nod in my direction. I didn't return it.

Didn't need to. We both knew where we stood.

Lucas was already running his mouth, trying to get a rise out of him. Typical. That guy loved to stir the pot, even when it was already boiling over. Kael stood like a statue—silent, unreadable. I respected that. At least someone here had enough sense to keep his damn mouth shut.

But then Damian asked the obvious question.

"Where's Christ?"

I glanced at the empty chair too. Trinity Pack's Alpha never missed these meetings. And even if he was late, he made damn sure everyone knew he'd arrived.

Not today.

Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't believe in coincidences. Not when it came to politics—and definitely not when it involved Alphas.

I shrugged, not bothering to look Damian in the eye. "Or maybe he finally realized these meetings are a joke."

It was the truth. All these gatherings ever did was toss egos in a blender and pour out bullshit.

Still, I kept one hand resting casually on my thigh—close to the blade I always kept strapped beneath my jacket. A habit. One I never broke.

Damian dropped into his seat like the weight of the entire damn world was strapped to his shoulders and started barking about wasting his time.

Again—typical.

Lucas made another smartass comment, Kael offered some deadpan wisdom, and I just tuned them all out.

Because something about that empty chair was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

And when something felt wrong in my gut... it usually was.

The longer I sat there, the more I regretted showing up.

I didn't do politics. I didn't care for small talk. And I sure as hell didn't come here to sip coffee and pretend we were all on the same side.

So after a long minute of silence and posturing, I finally leaned forward, voice low and bored.

"What's this meeting about, Damian? Or did you just gather us here to practice our scowling?"

Lucas huffed a laugh. Kael didn't react.

Typical.

Damian's eyes locked on mine, sharp and cold.

His voice was even, but there was something simmering under the surface—something dark.

"Omegas," he said. "They've been going missing."

That got my attention.

I sat up straighter, the tension in the room snapping tight like a wire about to break.

"Where?" I asked, my voice a little sharper now.

He looked around the table, making sure we were all paying attention. We were.

"Mostly in the southeastern territories," he said. "Three packs bordering that region have reported disappearances. All young, all female, all low-ranking Omegas."

I didn't like that.

Disputes I could handle. Border fights? Fine. Even rogues had their place.

But this?

This was different.

"That many missing and no one's found a body?" I asked.

Damian's jaw ticked. "Not one. And there's no scent trails. No signs of struggle. It's like they're just... gone."

Lucas finally lost the smirk.

Kael's arms dropped to his sides as he straightened his posture, eyes narrowed slightly.

No one joked now.

Damian continued, voice lower. "One of my scouts found claw marks near one of the disappearances. Not rogue. Something... else."

"Something else?" I repeated, eyes narrowing.

He nodded. "Whatever it is, it's moving smart. Fast. And it's picking off Omegas like cattle."

I leaned back, rubbing a hand over my jaw. "You sure this isn't some rogue game gone wrong? Kidnapping? Trade?"

"If it was rogues," Damian said, "I'd have blood on the snow by now."

Christ still wasn't here. And now I was starting to wonder if that was just bad timing—or something more.

Something worse.

The silence was a heavy blanket after that.

Until, of course, Lucas opened his damn mouth.

"Well," he said, resting back in his chair with that lazy grin that didn't reach his eyes anymore, "that's one hell of a reason to drag us all here. Missing Omegas, claw marks, and something that doesn't leave a trail. Sounds like the start of a ghost story."

Damian's eyes cut toward him, sharp enough to bleed. "This isn't a joke."

Lucas lifted a brow, still wearing that cocky mask, but his voice had lost its usual playfulness.

"I know. That's why I'm here instead of balls-deep in a bottle back at my own pack house."

Kael finally stepped forward from where he'd been leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, tone measured.

"How many total?"

Damian's gaze snapped to him. "Seven that I know of. Could be more. Some packs won't report unless it's a ranking member. We all know how that goes."

Kael nodded once. "Patterns?"

"Only in proximity," Damian said. "All taken near the southern ridge, scattered across three packs. All at night. No scent. No witnesses."

Lucas tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. "So either we've got a group of damn skilled predators running around—or something unnatural is stalking our people."

"Rogues don't work this clean," I muttered, eyes still locked on Damian. "Even the smart ones leave messes eventually."

"I know," he said. "That's what worries me."

Something twisted in my gut. I didn't like this. Not one damn bit. And I wasn't about to sit here while Omegas were being picked off like prey.

Kael asked the next question, quiet and direct. "Any connection to the Trinity Pack?"

Damian didn't answer right away.

But the look in his eyes said enough.