THE ALPHA'S SCENTLESS SPY

Liana had never imagined the end of the world would be this loud.

There were no warnings anymore. No broadcasts urging people indoors, no announcements promising the situation was under control. The city had long since stopped believing those words.

Outside the car window, buildings burned beneath a sky choked with smoke. Sirens rose and faded between bursts of gunfire. People fled through the streets without knowing where to go — some clutching bags, others weapons, a few holding children so tightly the little ones could barely breathe. Liana watched through the tinted glass, her fingers curled around the edge of her seat until her knuckles ached.

"Three more blocks," the driver said. His voice was controlled, but she heard the strain under it. "Then we switch vehicles and take the underground route."

She met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Have you confirmed the route is clear?"

"We're checking."

"That wasn't my question."

He said nothing for a moment. Then his gaze returned to the road.

"We'll find another way if it's compromised."

Liana looked away. They'd been saying things like that for months. *We'll find another way. We'll be safe there. The serum won't reach us.* Every promise had eventually become another lie.

What began as protests and demands for equal rights had turned into something no one could control. The first attacks were blamed on extremists. Then came the retaliations, the disappearances, the reports of supernatural beings losing their abilities after injections they'd never agreed to take. The government called the serum a cure. Others called it a weapon. By the time it became compulsory, trust had already become a casualty of the war.

Now no one knew who might be carrying it, who might be administering it, or which side would strike next.

A sharp crack split the air and the vehicle lurched. Liana slammed against the door, catching herself before her head hit the window.

"What was that?"

"Ambush!"

The driver floored it. Behind them, two security vehicles swerved to avoid something lying across the road. One made it through. The other didn't — a dark figure dropped onto its roof, and the vehicle flipped, rolled twice, and crashed against a concrete barrier.

"Stop!" Liana shouted.

"We can't!"

"There are people in there!"

"I know."

He didn't slow down.

She twisted in her seat, watching smoke swallow the wreckage. She knew those men. They'd guarded her for years, stood outside her bedroom when threats came in, accompanied her father to events where every handshake hid a negotiation. Now she couldn't even tell if they were alive.

Another explosion rocked the street. The driver swerved around a wrecked motorcycle as shouting broke out over the radio.

"Get down!" someone yelled.

Liana ducked as gunfire tore through the vehicle behind them. Glass shattered. Sparks burst across the road. The driver cursed, wrestling the wheel, but a damaged truck blocked their path. He slammed the brakes.

"Everyone out!"

Her door flew open. A guard seized her arm and pulled her onto the pavement.

"Miss Whitmore, move!"

"What happened?"

"They've blocked the road."

"Who?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

A shadow flickered across the roof of the building opposite them, then another. Liana's stomach tightened.

"Vampires?"

Her guard raised his weapon.

"And witches."

A woman stepped into the street in a long black coat, her hair whipping around her face despite the still air. She lifted one hand. The air compressed. Liana felt it in her bones a heartbeat before the guard beside her was hurled backward into the car. He struck the metal with a sickening crack and crumpled to the ground.

Liana stumbled toward him. Another guard caught her shoulder.

"Run!"

"I'm not leaving you."

"You're not leaving us. You're surviving us."

The words hit harder than the explosion had. He shoved her toward a gap between two buildings, then turned back to face the attackers.

Liana ran.

Gunshots followed her into the alley. Someone shouted an order; someone else screamed. She didn't turn around. Her lungs burned, her shoes slipped on loose rubble, but she kept moving until the fighting faded behind her.

The alley opened onto a deserted side street. A pharmacy stood with its windows blown out, shelves overturned, medicine bottles scattered across the floor. A grocery store across the road had been stripped bare. An abandoned bus blocked the intersection, its doors hanging open as if its passengers had fled mid-journey.

For one disorienting second she remembered coming here with her mother years ago, when the biggest inconvenience had been traffic.

She pushed the memory away. Nostalgia wouldn't keep her alive.

At the end of the street, a narrow passage ran between a shuttered café and a residential building — a way off the main road, away from the worst of the fighting. She slipped into it and pressed against the wall, forcing her breathing to slow.

First, she needed to know if anyone was following her. Then she needed to reach her parents.

She pulled out her phone. No signal.

"Come on."

She tried her mother's number. The call failed. Her father's, too. She stared at their last messages as though the ordinary words might offer some reassurance. Nothing new.

Her parents might be trapped, injured, cut off. She couldn't help them standing in an alley waiting for a signal.

"Please be alive," she whispered, not sure which of them she meant.

Movement at the far end of the passage made her look up. Three figures ran toward her — two humans and a vampire chasing them. One man fired over his shoulder. The bullet struck the vampire, who barely stumbled.

Liana flattened against the wall as they rushed past. The vampire caught the first man by the collar and dragged him down. The second kept running, never looking back.

A strangled cry cut through the alley.

Liana clamped a hand over her mouth and waited until the vampire vanished into the smoke before moving again, legs unsteady. She wanted to help the man on the ground. She wanted to do something other than leave another person behind.

But she had no weapon and no strength to fight what had taken him.

She ran.

By the time she reached the main road, the destruction had become almost impossible to take in. Bodies lay scattered across the pavement — human and supernatural both. A dead witch beside a soldier. A vampire sprawled against a burned-out car. Under a streetlight, a young woman lay curled around a broken weapon, her fingers still locked around the handle.

There was no line between the sides anymore. The war had erased it.

Liana slowed despite herself, eyes burning, unable to look at the faces she passed. This wasn't how any of it was supposed to go. People had marched for equality, demanded accountability, argued that humans and supernaturals could share a world without one ruling the other. Even when the serum entered the debate, some still believed it could be settled with laws and negotiation.

Then fear had become more useful than reason. Every death justified another. Every retaliation demanded a harsher one. Eventually the streets filled with bodies.

She couldn't undo any of it. She could barely get herself out alive.

So she kept walking, watching the windows and rooftops, searching for a route away from the fighting. She had to find somewhere secure. She had to reach her parents. She had to—

Sebastian.

His name surfaced before she could stop it.

Where was he? Alive? Fighting somewhere across the city, or searching for her? He was one of the few people she could picture surviving this. The thought brought a brief, painful comfort — followed immediately by the fear that he might already be dead.

She refused to follow that thought further.

A sound behind her made her turn.

Nothing in the road but a burned-out car and drifting smoke. She waited, listening. Far off, an explosion lit the buildings for an instant, throwing their broken outlines into sharp relief.

She stepped back.

Footsteps sounded behind the smoke.

"Who's there?" she called.

No answer.

She moved toward the abandoned car, hoping its wreckage would give her cover if she had to run again. Another footstep, closer this time. Her pulse quickened. She measured the distance to the nearest side street — but before she could reach it, a man stepped out of the smoke.

He looked untouched by the destruction around him. Dark clothes immaculate, pale face unmarked, his eyes calm enough to make the chaos around them seem almost beside the point. A faint smile curved his lips.

Liana knew what he was before he took another step.

Vampire.

She spun and ran.

She made it three steps.

One moment the street stretched empty ahead of her. The next, he was standing in her path. His hand closed around her throat and slammed her against the wall hard enough to send pain shooting through her shoulders.

She gasped, seizing his wrist.

"Let me go."

Her voice came out thin.

The vampire studied her face, blank for a moment. Then recognition dawned, and his smile widened.

"Well." He tilted his head. "This is interesting."

"Who are you?"

He ignored the question, examining her like something far more valuable than he'd expected to find in the ruins.

"President Whitmore's daughter."

Her stomach clenched.

He leaned closer, satisfaction sharpening his gaze.

"And Sebastian Devereux's mate."

Her breath caught.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me."

His fingers tightened. Her feet left the ground. She clawed at his hand, trying to force space between his fingers and her throat.

"Please—"

The word broke apart. She couldn't draw enough air to finish it.

He watched her struggle without the slightest concern.

"Where is he?"

She shook her head — refusal or desperation, she couldn't have said which. She didn't know where Sebastian was.

"Where is Sebastian?"

She shook her head again.

His eyes narrowed on her face. Then his mouth curved in cruel amusement.

"He isn't here." He tightened his grip just enough to make her gasp. "That must be disappointing."

Her vision blurred. She dug her nails into his wrist, searching for any weakness, but his hold didn't shift.

"You have no idea how many people would love to get their hands on you."

The words sent a chill through her, raising a question she could barely form. Her father? The serum? Sebastian? Or all three at once?

She needed to know. She needed to stay conscious long enough to find out.

"Let—" The word barely escaped her.

His gaze dropped to her throat. The amusement drained away, replaced by naked hunger. His lips brushed her skin. She went rigid, tried to turn her head, but his hand held her in place. Beneath his pale lips, his fangs lengthened.

She struck at his face with her free hand. The blow barely turned his head.

For the first time, his smile disappeared.

Then it returned, and she understood exactly how little her resistance had cost him.

"Go ahead," he whispered. "Call for him."

A tear slipped down her cheek. She could barely breathe, her strength fading, the street around them eerily quiet. She searched the smoke for any sign someone had heard her.

There was no one.

The vampire smiled against her neck.

"Who's going to save you now, little mate?"

Her fingers loosened against his wrist. Her vision darkened at the edges as she fought to hold on to the smallest chance of escape.

His fangs pressed against her skin.

In that last, fading moment, one thought cut through the terror.

She might never see Sebastian again.