34. SUBTLE, NON-INTRUSIVE

KIERAN

“I need that stat report now,” I said the moment I stepped into my study, not even bothering to unfasten the cufflinks digging into my wrists. The ball was over, but the buzzing in my head hadn’t stopped. Something didn’t sit right with me, and I knew I wasn’t going to get any rest until I got to the bottom of it.

Dorian was already waiting. He handed over the file he had compiled, but I didn’t open it yet. I dropped it on the desk and stared at him.

“Talk to me. What’s the rundown?”

He nodded, keeping his tone neutral as always. “No major incidents, Alpha. Everyone behaved—well, mostly. There was that slap from Selene, but that was handled. Lucian kept to himself after the speech, and Vee… well, Vee didn’t do anything unusual. No signs of covert communication, no unexplained disappearances. She stayed close to the guests, was polite, and helpful.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “Helpful. Right. You saw what she did back there, Dorian. Why did she stop me from putting Lucian in his place?”

Dorian hesitated, then shrugged. “Could be nothing. Maybe she thought the ball wasn’t the place for drama. Or maybe she’s trying to keep the peace.”

“That’s too convenient,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. “Vee doesn’t usually get in the middle of things unless she has a damn good reason. She let us go at each other all week without saying a word. And suddenly she decides to play peacemaker now?”

“She might’ve sensed things were escalating,” Dorian said carefully. “You know Lucian’s not just anyone. It could’ve turned into a scene.”

“I wanted it to turn into a scene,” I snapped, my voice rising before I caught myself. “I needed to see how far he was willing to go. But she shut it down like she knew something I didn’t.”

Dorian stepped forward. “Then maybe she does. But we need to be smart about this. Watching her too closely might make her suspicious. She’s sharp, Kieran. If she gets even a whiff that we’ve got eyes on her, she’ll pull back.”

“I’m not backing off.”

“I’m not saying that,” Dorian said, holding my gaze. “I’m saying let me do it quietly. Subtle, non-intrusive. The moment she starts to slip, I’ll know. But if we press too hard now, we lose whatever game she’s playing.”

I sighed, leaning back against the desk.

“She’s hiding something. I feel it in my gut.”

“Then we’ll find out what it is,” Dorian replied, tone firm. “But we don’t rattle her. We let her move freely. That’s when people get comfortable. And when people are comfortable, they make mistakes.”

I nodded slowly. “Keep her close, but make it look casual. I want details—who she talks to, where she goes, what she’s not saying. Especially what she’s not saying.”

“You got it.”

“And Dorian?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell the others—she’s off-limits. No one touches her. No intimidation, no questions. I want her to think we’re done watching.”

A small smirk curved his lips. “Sometimes the best trap is the one they think they already escaped.”

I didn’t smile back. My mind was already racing. Vee hadn’t just calmed a situation—she redirected it. And whatever her reason was, I intended to find out.

Later that evening, as the air turned crisp and the lanterns lining the path flickered in warm orange hues, I walked through the heart of the pack. The quiet murmur of the night was soothing, but my thoughts weren’t. I spotted Vee ahead, doing her usual rounds—head high, eyes focused, like nothing ever fazed her. I let my steps fall in line with hers, casually closing the distance.

“You looked like you had fun at the ball,” I said, watching the corner of her mouth twitch just slightly.

“Did you?”

She didn’t stop walking. “It was alright,” she said with a shrug. “Not my scene, really.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You didn’t seem out of place.”

She glanced at me, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “I blend in where I need to, Kieran. You should know that by now.”

“I do,” I said slowly. “Which is why I’m wondering what exactly you were blending into last night.”

That made her pause, just for a second—just long enough for me to notice. She turned her gaze forward again and kept walking. “You’re imagining things,” she said lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Paranoia doesn’t look good on you.”

“No?” I stepped in front of her, halting her. “Then maybe you’d prefer suspicion. Because that’s what I have. Something’s off, Vee. You were too careful at that ball. Too... deliberate.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but her voice did—low, clipped. “I don’t have time for your games, Kieran. I have work to do.”

“You always have work to do,” I muttered. “Even when you’re hiding something.”

She brushed past me, but I turned after her, calling louder, “Whatever it is, Vee—it’s going to come out. You can’t keep it buried forever.”

She stopped, just a few feet ahead, and turned halfway. That smirk was back now, sharper this time.

“You really think I’m the one hiding?” she asked, tilting her head.

“That’s rich. You should be looking in the mirror, not following me around trying to dig up ghosts.”

I took a step forward, fists clenched at my side. “I’m not the one acting like my soul would combust if I spoke one honest word.”

“No,” she said, her voice dipping into a laugh. “You’re the one who should be afraid of honesty. Because if anyone here’s keeping secrets worth burning for, it’s you, Kieran. Not me.”

I held her gaze, silent now, because damn it, there was something in her tone. Not fear. Not guilt. Power. And it rattled me.

“Keep pushing,” she said. “See where it leads.”

Then she turned and walked away, leaving my thoughts boiling in the silence she left behind.

I stood there, my gaze fixed on Vee’s retreating form as she moved through the hallway, the light casting an odd shadow behind her. Something clenched in my chest—tight, uncertain, irritatingly familiar. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“Again?” I muttered under my breath, dragging my hand through my hair. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” The knowingness, that same damn feeling that I’d been here before, seeing this exact moment, that she had walked away like this before—same pace, same sway, same silence. But the memory didn’t exist. Not in any way that made sense.

I turned, pacing slightly, my jaw tightening.

“Why does this keep happening?” I said to no one in particular, but my guard, Dareth, caught the edge of it.

“Something wrong, Alpha?”

I looked at him, eyes narrowed, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it outright. “It’s Vee,” I said instead.

“She walks away, and I… I feel like I know something I shouldn’t. Like I’ve already lived this.”

Dareth frowned. “Deja vu?”

“No, it’s more than that,” I snapped, not because I was angry at him but because I was angry at this feeling. “It’s like my brain is screaming at me to remember something I never knew in the first place.”

He hesitated. “Want me to follow her?”

“No.” I was too quick to respond, and I saw the way Dareth raised a brow. I sighed, lowering my voice. “No. I just… I don’t want her thinking I’m watching her every move.”

“You usually are.”

I glared at him but said nothing.

Dareth shifted. “You’re worried about her.”

“I shouldn’t be,” I said slowly, turning again to stare in the direction she had gone. “She doesn’t want me to be. But I am. And now this… whatever this is, it keeps happening.”