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Jaxon“Fucking piece of shit!” I growl, barely stifling the urge to rip the failing comm out of my ear and crush it under my boot.The signal died and I'm on the second floor, too far from the action to know what’s happening with any certainty. I can hear movement below me, heavy footsteps pounding the floor, moving rapidly. Shit has obviously gone sideways. I just can’t tell what or how badly. Nicolai is somewhere below them with Skye—I heard her voice, which is, I try to remind myself, the thing that matters. She's alive and moving and giving him grief about something, which means she's okay enough to give grief. I should find that reassuring but the entire facility is mobilizing around a situation that stopped being under our control about three minutes ago.I have no clear path to the basement stairs and Nicolai needs help now. According to the blueprint, I can get there in about fifteen seconds if I go through the room to my left. But there’s three men in the room I’d have to go
NicolaiI’m certain I’ve found the right room. The one where my mate and the love of my life is being held as a pawn in a game she never signed up for. My mind is trying to drag me down the path of despair, force me to think about what I might find behind the locked door. But I don’t have time for that right now.Without deciding to do so, I’ve already pulled out the key—the type our intelligence identified these doors use. He better fucking be right! To my relief, the door swings open. But it wasn’t my key that opened it. The door was already unlocked.I don't have time to think about why. Because she's there. On the floor, hands behind her back, working at something with focused intensity—and then she sees me and the expression on her face is relief and fury and something else that I file for later because there's no time now.Her wrists. I see them for one second before I look away, because I need to be functional and what I see on her wrists will interfere with functional if I le
NicolaiThe plan is as clean as we can make it based on the limited intel we have. Thankfully, It’s not my first time infiltrating a heavily secured building whose layout I know very little about and can only make assumptions. I know what a clean plan looks like. I've run operations with the deck stacked against me before. Against people who were expecting me, with resources that didn't cover the gap between what I needed and what I had. I know the difference between a plan that works and a plan that looks like it works.This one works. It has to. We pull off the dirt road, into an abandoned field near our target but still far enough away not to be detected. It’s where we’ll leave most of our vehicles while we go the rest of the way on foot. Everyone exits their vehicles and crowds around mine for one last briefing before we go in. “Entry will be from the eastern access point.” I call out, pointing at the map spread out on the hood of my SUV. “Secondary team waits on the perimeter—e
SkyeMinutes pass that feel like hours after Savin leaves me to ruminate on his not-so-veiled threat. Instead, I'm calculating the door—the hinges, the lock, whether there's anything in this room that could be useful—when I hear the footsteps on the stairs again.Too light for Savin. Too controlled for his goons. I can’t even venture a guess who this new person might be but I’m not looking forward to another visitor to my dungeon. Then the door opens and Tatiana Volkov steps inside. If I thought I was unenthused before, I’m downright apathetic now. Nicolai’s ex-lover is the last thing I need to be dealig with right now. I know her immediately, of course. She's exactly as I remember from the estate—beautiful, polished, the kind of woman who moves through spaces like she expects them to rearrange around her.She looks at me on the floor of this basement room and her expression is—gleeful might be too strong a word, but not by much. She's been planning this moment. I can see it in the
SkyeShivers wrack my body as I sit here in my concrete cell. Though if from the cold and dank of the room or the fever from my rising heat, I’m not sure. It’s miserable but I just keep reminding myself I’ve been through worse. I’m not sure when, but I’m clinging to the lie like a lifeline right now. At least my captors have left me alone, keeping to their orders I’m not to be touched. It can’t be easy, given my scent has become so potent it could choke a horse. I guess I should be thankful. Small favors and all that. Just as I’m making some progress convincing myself I might survive this after all, the door to my room opens. The man who enters is not one of the rough operatives who drug me here. It’s not any of the men I’ve been expecting at all.This man is even more polished than Volkov. Gray-templed in the way that makes him look distinguished but not aged. His suit is tailored and his shoes are shined to a high gloss, which tells me something about how far he is from the work h
SkyeI’m not sure how much time has passed when we finally pull up to a house that is large and isolated. The area looks rural. Flat land in every direction. No neighboring scents, no pack presence. Chosen for exactly that reason, I’m sure.They drag me out of the backseat and an errant thought hits me immediately—no blindfold. They didn't bother, even though I;ve seen their face, can describe the house they’re dragging me towards. I understand what that means.They have no intention of letting me go in any condition where it matters what I've seen.“Do you know who I am? My husband is going to rip you to shreds for this!” I threaten, thrashing around as much as possible, refusing to make one second of this easy for them. “I doubt that very much Mrs. Woolf.” I look up to find the owner of the heavily accented voice is a clean cut man in a very expensive, almost certainly bespoke three piece suit stepping out onto the porch. A man I recognize. Dmitry Volkov’s expression is one of bare
SkyeI stare at Jaxon standing on the terrace, and something inside me finally breaks. Not with drama or tears. Not with shouting or accusations. I no longer have the energy or the emotional investment for those antics. Those were for a younger Skye.This older, more world-weary Skye just... breaks.
JaxonWhen I left Skye the note saying I was leaving on pack business, it was a lie.I drove to my family's cabin in the mountains instead—a place I haven't been since before I took over for my father as Alpha. It’s the only place far enough from the pack that I could think without the weight of res
SkyeI knew Jaxon went through my phone the minute I stepped out of the bathroom.I could tell by the way it's placed on the nightstand—screen down instead of up, shifted slightly from where I left it.He knows I've been in contact with Nicolai.And I know the confrontation is coming.It happens at
SkyeThe rumors spread faster than I anticipated.Despite Jaxon's best efforts to contain the narrative—carefully worded statements to the elders, strategic conversations with influential pack members—the truth has a way of seeping through cracks. By the end of my first week back, everyone knows th







