Chapter 54

ALPHA RUNE 

I didn't mind the wait. I broke the lock with a casual flick of my wrist, the wood splintering under my strength, and walked straight into his kitchen. My wolf was hungry and lethal, snarling in the back of my mind, but my physical body was eerily calm. I found fresh eggs in his larder and a tin of dark roast coffee on the counter. I cracked the eggs into a seasoned pan, the sizzle filling the quiet room, and poured myself a cup of the bitter brew.

"Do you care for some?" I asked, glancing at a bewildered Kayvon. He looked like he didn't understand why I was calmly preparing an omelette in a stranger’s kitchen as if I held the deed to the property.

"Nah, I'll pass," he murmured, his eyes darting to the windows. He kept pacing the small perimeter of the kitchen, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

"We don't know how long he'll be out, but I'm going to remain here until he returns, even if it takes a week. I suggest you find a chair and get comfortable, Kayvon." I sat down and began to eat, the simple task grounding me.

I was halfway through my meal, sitting at the small, scarred wooden table, when the door finally creaked open. Khalid froze in the doorway. He looked at the shattered lock, then his eyes traveled to me—the Conqueror, the Alpha of the Crescent Moon, eating lunch in his home. He dropped his bags, his head bowing low as the scent of raw, unadulterated fear rolled off him in waves.

"Alpha Rune," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I did not expect such a distinguished guest in my humble home."

I didn't look up from my plate, savoring the last bite of egg. I simply nodded to Kayvon, who stepped out of the shadows like a specter of judgment.

"Are you still loyal to your Alpha, Khalid?" Kayvon’s voice was like a whip-crack in the small room.

"Always," Khalid stammered, his knees looking ready to buckle.

"Have you ever betrayed this pack? Or the man sitting at your table right now?"

"Never. I swear it on my life."

"Then are you aware of the 'accident' that happened at Highway 25 a few months ago?" Kayvon asked, leaning forward into the light, his expression predatory.

Khalid went deathly still. The silence stretched, becoming thick and uncomfortable, punctuated only by the ticking of a clock on the wall. Finally, the alchemist walked over to a sideboard, his hands shaking violently as he poured himself a stiff drink. He took a long, desperate swallow before turning back to face us.

"I was contracted," he admitted, his voice barely audible above a whisper. "Someone reached out to me through an anonymous, encrypted channel. They paid in untraceable gold to have a specific scent-swap prepared. A masking agent designed to survive a high-intensity fire and bond to organic matter."

"And the name of this 'anonymous' benefactor?" I asked, finally looking up. My eyes locked onto his, and I saw the terror there.

"I don't know," Khalid said, his eyes pleading for mercy. "They were a shadow. I delivered the vial to a dead-drop box in the neutral zone. I didn't ask questions. In my trade, Alpha, questions are the quickest way to get yourself killed."

I wiped my mouth slowly with a napkin and stood up. I wasn't angry with him; in fact, I was almost impressed. It was a clean job—nearly perfect. "Clean up the mess, Khalid," I said, gesturing to the broken door. "You’ve been helpful. Stay in the territory. If I find out you’ve left, I’ll assume you’ve rejoined the opposition."

"Shouldn't we take him in?" Kayvon suggested as we headed back toward the pack house. "He definitely knows more than he's letting on. A man like that always keeps a backup plan."

"No need. He's probably lying about the anonymity, but he has already given us exactly what we need." I said calmly, the cold air clearing my head.

"And what's that, exactly?"

"Confirmation. Sara is alive. I wasn't sure before now, but the existence of that masking agent proves it. Tristan wouldn't have gone to the trouble of swapping her scent onto a decoy corpse if he actually meant to kill her. He needed a body to stop the search." I gave Kayvon a sly, dark smile. "He wanted me to stop looking. And for six months, it worked."

When we arrived back at the Crescent Moon pack house, the atmosphere had shifted. The air was thick with a new kind of tension. I stepped into the drawing room and stopped short. Carmen was standing near the fireplace, her hand near her weapon, facing Yvonne.

Tristan’s Right Hand looked entirely out of place in my home, her polished exterior clashing with the rugged stone of the Crescent Moon, but her spine was straight and her gaze remained defiant. I had to admire her sheer audacity—coming into the lion’s den while the lion was finally sharpening his claws for the kill.

"Yvonne," I said, my voice echoing through the vaulted room. "Give me one single reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand for trespassing."

Yvonne didn't flinch. She took a deliberate step toward me, her chin tilted up in a show of bravado. "Because I have something you want. Knowledge. I know exactly where Sara is, and more importantly, I know the state she’s in. That information is worth more to you than my head on a platter."

I let out a low, dark chuckle—a sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "You think you’re bargaining with secrets, Yvonne? You’re late to the table. The meal is already served."

She frowned, her confidence flickering like a dying candle. "You’re bluffing. You’ve been a hermit, rotting in this house for months. You know nothing of the world outside these walls."

"I know the crash on Highway 25 was a choreographed stage play," I said, ticking points off on my fingers as I closed the distance between us. "I know only one body was found, and I know now that it wasn't hers. I know you and Sara were at Silvermoon together, hosted by Alpha Damon. I know you left in a hurry because your Alpha was 'dying,' yet my sources tell me Tristan is currently the picture of health. A miracle, wouldn't you say? Especially since only a Lockwood could have purged that specific toxin from his system."

Yvonne’s face went pale, the blood draining away as the mask finally began to crack.

"And finally," I leaned in close, my breath ghosting over her ear as my eyes flashed a brilliant, predatory Alpha gold, "I just had lunch with Khalid. He told me all about the scent-masking agent you used to turn a random corpse into a fake Sara. You were sloppy, Yvonne. You left a trail."

The shock hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her eyes darting toward the exit, but Carmen was already there, blocking her path with a look of pure malice.

"The evidence is a mountain now, Yvonne," I growled, my voice vibrating with power. "You lied to me. You let me rot in my own grief, let my pack suffer, while you kept her as a slave in that glass cage of Tristan's. So tell me... why shouldn't I lock you in my deepest, darkest dungeon and let you see how it feels to be a prisoner of the Crescent Moon?"

Yvonne swallowed hard, her defiance replaced by a desperate calculation. "Well... I may be able to help you get her back. As Tristan's right hand, I am the perfect person to infiltrate his inner circle. He wouldn't suspect a thing if I were to facilitate an escape."

"Tell me, why do you want to betray your Alpha so badly?" I asked, my curiosity finally piqued. "Loyalty like yours doesn't just evaporate. It’s more like Carmen betraying me—it's unthinkable."

"My reason is my own," Yvonne said through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing with a hidden pain.

"I think she's in love with her Alpha," Carmen interjected from the doorway, her voice dripping with disdain. "And he has fallen in love with someone else. I suspect he’s fallen for the prisoner. I suspect he’s fallen for Sara."

Yvonne's involuntary flinch and the way her shoulders slumped told me everything I needed to know. Carmen was right. Hell hath no fury like a second-in-command scorned.