CIA

Anya stared at the phone in her hand.

Twenty-four hours.

Her sister, alive, breathing, terrified in a CIA black site, or the three alphas who'd become something she couldn't name.

Pack. Mates. Home.

Fuck.

She typed the message carefully. Encrypted. To an old contact. Former MI6. The kind of person who could find needles in haystacks.

NEED LOCATION. CIA SAFEHOUSE. HYBRID PROGRAM. PRIORITY CRITICAL.

Send.

Then another message. This one to the hacker she'd mentioned. The one who owed her.

TRACE THIS PHONE. She attached Stevens' number. EVERYTHING. CALLS, TEXTS, LOCATION HISTORY. SEND TO DIMITRI VOLKOV.

Send.

The gun was a Glock 19. Familiar weight. Fifteen rounds. One spare mag.

Enough to kill Eleanor Voss. Enough to kill Stevens. Enough to die trying.

She checked the time. 3:47 AM. Twenty hours and thirteen minutes until the deadline.

Her sister's face haunted her. Younger. Scared. The way she'd looked when their father had bundled them into the car, fleeing Moscow in the middle of the night.

Be brave, Katya. Be brave like your sister.

But Anya hadn't been brave. She'd been terrified. And when the car bomb had taken their parents, she'd been too broken to even ask if Katya had survived.

The CIA had told her no. Told her Katya died in the explosion. Gave her a death certificate. Let her grieve.

Liars.

They'd taken her sister and hidden her. Leverage, probably. Insurance in case Anya ever went rogue.

Like now.

Her phone buzzed. Response from MI6.

CHECKING. WILL TAKE TIME. HYBRID PROGRAM LOCATIONS ARE GHOST SITES. STAND BY.

Another buzz. The hacker.

ON IT. PRELIMINARY DATA SUGGESTS STEVENS' PHONE PINGS REGULARLY AT THREE LOCATIONS. SENDING COORDINATES.

The coordinates came through. She memorized them. One was the shipping yard, Eleanor's meeting place. One was the port. One was....

Her breath caught.

One was a building she knew. A CIA facility.

Official. On the books.

Which meant Eleanor Voss wasn't some rogue operative. She was sanctioned. Funded. Operating with full government approval.

Christ.

Movement below. She dropped flat, peered over the roof's edge.

A car. Black. Expensive. It pulled up to the building across the street.

Someone got out.

Dimitri.

Her heart kicked. No. No, he shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be exposed. Shouldn't be...

He looked up. Direct. Like he knew exactly where she was.

Their eyes met across 50 meters of empty air.

The bond flared. Hot. Desperate. 60%. Maybe 55%.

He raised his phone. Hers buzzed.

COME DOWN. WE NEED TO TALK.

She should refuse. Should stay hidden. Should protect him by staying away.

She climbed down anyway.

Met him in the alley. Dark. Private. His scent hit her first, alpha-musk and gunpowder and blood. He was hurt. Limping. His face a mask of bruises.

"You should be in a hospital," she said.

"So should you." His eyes raked over her. Checking for damage. For wounds. "Stevens?"

"Alive. Unfortunately."

"Where are Alexei and Nikolai?"

"Safe. Hidden. Watching our backs." He stepped closer. Close enough that she felt his heat. "They wanted to come. I told them to stand down."

"Because this could be a trap."

"Because I need to talk to you. Alone."

The bond pulsed. She felt it, his determination, his exhaustion, the protective rage simmering under his skin.

"Stevens gave me twenty-four hours," she said quietly. "Complete my original mission...kill you and your brothers...or they kill me. And..." Her voice broke. "My sister. They have my sister."

Dimitri went very still. "You told me she was dead."

"I thought she was. The CIA showed me her death certificate. Let me believe it for ten years." Anger bled through. Raw. Unfiltered. "They've had her this whole time. And now they're threatening to put her in the hybrid program if I don't kill you."

"The hybrid program." He knew what that meant. Every alpha knew. "Christ."

"So you understand." She looked at him. Really looked. "I can't let that happen. She's all I have left. The only family..."

"You have us."

The words hit like a physical blow.

"I barely know you," she whispered.

"You know us better than anyone has in years. You've seen us at our worst. You've fought beside us. You've..." He touched her face. Gentle. Too gentle for someone so dangerous. "You chose us. When you could have walked away. When your extraction team came. You chose us."

"That was stupid."

"Probably." His thumb traced her cheekbone. "But it was also real. And I'll take real and stupid over smart and fake any day."

The bond cracked further. 50%.

Halfway.

She felt it settling into her bones. Changing her. Making her part of something larger than herself.

Pack.

"I can't kill you," she said. "But I can't let them take my sister either."

"So we don't give them the choice." Dimitri's voice was hard. Determined. "We find your sister. We extract her. And then we burn Eleanor's operation to the ground."

"Dimitri..."

"I'm not asking, Anya. I'm telling you. You're pack now. And pack protects each other. Always."

She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him this was insane. That he couldn't go up against the CIA for one omega he barely knew.

But the bond wouldn't let her.

Because she felt it. Felt his certainty. His commitment. The absolute conviction that she was worth fighting for.

Worth dying for.

"We have nineteen hours," she said instead.

"Then we'd better move fast."

He pulled out his phone. Showed her a screen. Intelligence data. Photos. Locations.

"Your hacker friend is good. Really good." Dimitri swiped through images. "Stevens has been pinging at three locations. Port, shipping yard, and..." He zoomed in. "Here. Federal building. Fourth floor. CIA field office."

"Eleanor's base of operations," Anya said.

"Probably. Which means that's where they're keeping your sister."

"That's suicide. It's a federal building. Armed guards. Security checkpoints. Biometric locks."

"You got in before." His eyes met hers. "When you were an operative. You had clearance."

"Had. Past tense. The moment I went rogue, they revoked everything."

"But your biometrics are still in the system. Your fingerprints. Retinal scan. DNA." Dimitri smiled. Feral. "They never scrub that data. Too much hassle. Which means..."

"I can still get in." Understanding dawned. "Holy shit. I can still get in."

"We walk in the front door. You use your credentials. They won't have time to lock you out before we're inside."

"And then?"

"Then we find your sister. Get her out. And make sure Eleanor Voss regrets ever fucking with us."

It was insane. Reckless. The kind of plan that got people killed.

Anya loved it.

"We'll need backup," she said. "Alexei and Nikolai."

"Already texted them. They're en route."

"Weapons?"

"In the trunk."

"Exit strategy?"

"Working on it." He looked at her. Really looked. "This is your call, Anya. Your sister. Your choice. We'll back whatever play you make."

Her choice.

Not her handler's. Not the Agency's. Not the mission parameters or the greater good or any of the bullshit justifications she'd lived by for ten years.

Her choice.

"Let's go get her," Anya said.

They moved.

Alexei and Nikolai arrived in a stolen van. Tactical gear. Enough weapons to start a small war.

"You're insane," Alexei said when Dimitri explained the plan. "You know that, right? This is suicide."

"Probably."

"The CIA will classify us as domestic terrorists. They'll hunt us forever."

"Let them."

Nikolai laughed. Sharp. Almost admiring. "Fuck it. I'm in. Haven't lived dangerously in at least three hours."

They geared up. Body armor. Comms. Weapons check. The ritual of violence Anya knew by heart.

"Rules of engagement?" she asked.

"Non-lethal if possible," Dimitri said. "But if they get between us and your sister, do what you have to."

She nodded. Checked her Glock. Extra mags. Knife in her boot.

The bond pulsed. She felt Dimitri's determination.

Alexei's paranoia. Nikolai's barely leashed violence.

Felt herself becoming part of it. Part of them.

45%.

The immunity was failing fast now. Every moment together, every shared glance, every touch. Soon it wouldn't matter. Soon the bond would complete and she'd be theirs.

Forever.

The thought should terrify her.

It didn't.

They hit the federal building at 5:23 AM. Early enough that skeleton crew would be on duty. Late enough that the night shift was tired.

Anya walked in first. Alone. Confident. The operator mask firmly in place.

"Agent Volkov." She flashed her credentials at the guard. Smiled. "Here to collect some files. Fourth floor."

The guard checked her ID. Scanned it. Frowned.

"Ma'am, your access shows as..."

"Suspended. I know. Administrative error. My director signed off on emergency reinstatement." She pulled out forged documents, courtesy of the hacker, delivered an hour ago. "If you need to verify, call this number."

The number went to a burner phone Dimitri was holding. He'd answer. Play the part. Sound official.

The guard hesitated. Looked at the documents. At her face. At the early morning hour.

"One moment."

He made the call. Anya kept her breathing steady.

Her heart rate controlled. The mask perfect.

"Okay. Yes, sir. I understand." The guard ended the call. Handed back her credentials. "You're cleared, Agent Volkov. Fourth floor. Be aware, there's ongoing renovations. Not all areas are accessible."

"Understood."

She walked through. Calm. Professional. Every inch the federal agent she used to be.

The elevator dinged. Fourth floor.

The doors opened.

Empty corridor. Fluorescent lights. The smell of government buildings everywhere, carpet cleaner and stale coffee.

She keyed her comm. "I'm in."

"Copy," Dimitri said. "We're two minutes behind you."

Two minutes to find her sister. Two minutes before all hell broke loose.

Anya moved fast. Checking doors. Most were offices. Conference rooms. Nothing.

Then she found it. End of the corridor. Heavy door. Biometric lock.

She pressed her palm to the scanner. Held her breath.

The lock clicked green.

Inside....

Not an office. A cell block. Four rooms. Heavy doors. Small windows.

Black site. Right here in a federal building. Hidden in plain sight.

"Katya?" she called softly.

A face appeared in one window. Female. Young. Dark hair. Blue eyes.

Her sister's eyes.

"Anya?" The voice was broken. Disbelieving. "They said you were dead. They said..."

"I'm here." Anya's hands were shaking now. Breaking the operator calm. "I'm here. I'm getting you out."

She tried the door. Locked. Electronic. She didn't have the code.

"Stand back," she said.

She pulled her gun. Put three rounds in the lock mechanism. It sparked. Smoked. Died.

The door swung open.

Katya stumbled out. Thin. Too thin. Bruised. They'd hurt her. Fed her suppressants. Kept her compliant.

Rage. White-hot. Consuming.

"Can you walk?" Anya asked.

"I...yes. I think so."

"Good." Anya pulled off her jacket. Wrapped it around her sister. "Stay close. Do exactly what I say. We're leaving."

"They'll kill us."

"Let them try."

They moved back toward the elevator. Fast. Katya stumbling but keeping pace.

The elevator dinged.

Dimitri, Alexei, and Nikolai stepped out. Armed. Ready.

"This her?" Dimitri asked.

"Yes."

His eyes softened fractionally. "Get her out. We'll handle cleanup."

"Dimitri..."

"Go. We'll cover your extraction. Get to the van. Nikolai will drive."

She wanted to argue. Wanted to stay and fight. But Katya was shaking. Terrified. Barely holding it together.

"Don't die," Anya said.

"Wasn't planning on it."

She ran. Katya at her side. Nikolai leading. They hit the stairwell. Down. Fast. Four flights.

Behind them, gunfire. Shouting. The sound of Dimitri and Alexei doing what they did best.

Creating chaos.

They burst out the ground floor exit. Van waiting. Engine running.

"In!" Nikolai shoved them into the back. "Go! Go! Go!"

The van peeled out. Tires screaming.

Anya held Katya. Felt her sister shaking. Sobbing. Ten years of fear and trauma bleeding out.

"You're safe," she whispered. "I've got you. You're safe."

Behind them, the building was chaos. Alarms. Police. Federal agents swarming.

And somewhere in that chaos, Dimitri and Alexei fighting their way out.

Her phone rang. Unknown number.

She answered. "Yes?"

"Agent Volkov." Eleanor's voice. Cold. Furious. "You just declared war."

"You started it. When you took my sister."

"That was leverage. Insurance. You were never supposed to..." Eleanor stopped. Took a breath. "You have twelve hours. Bring the Volkov brothers to the coordinates I'm sending. Surrender peacefully. Or I activate every asset I have. Every agency. Every operator. And I don't stop until you're all dead."

"Twelve hours," Anya repeated.

"Twelve hours. Don't be late."

The line went dead.

The coordinates came through. Port district. Same place they'd met before.

"Trap," Nikolai said from the driver's seat. "Has to be."

"Obviously." Anya looked at Katya. At her sister, safe, alive, free. "But we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice," a new voice said.

Anya spun. Gun up.

The white wolf sat in the back of the van.

Impossible. The doors were closed. They were moving. It couldn't...

Peace, young Luna. The wolf's voice in her head. Female. Ancient. Amused. I am not your enemy.

"What are you?" Anya breathed.

I am what your father told you about. The old ones. The pack spirits. The wolf's eyes, too intelligent, too knowing, fixed on her. And you, daughter of wolves, have been chosen.

"Chosen for what?"

To lead. To protect. To stand between pack and chaos. The wolf moved closer. Its fur glowed softly in the dim van. Your path splits here. Your sister is safe. You could run. Disappear. Live in hiding.

"Or?"

Or you stand and fight. With the alphas who chose you. Against the forces that would destroy them. The wolf's smile was terrifying. But understand, this choice is permanent. Choose the pack, and you are bound. Choose running, and you walk alone forever.

The bond pulsed. 40%. So close now. So close to permanent.

"I already chose," Anya said. "In the warehouse. When I refused extraction."

Did you? Or did you simply delay the inevitable? The wolf's eyes gleamed. Choosing in the heat of battle is instinct. Choosing now, with your sister safe, with escape possible, that is will.

Fair point.

Anya looked at Katya. At her sister, the only family she had left. The person their father had died protecting.

Then she thought of Dimitri. Of Alexei. Of Nikolai. Of the way they'd fought beside her. Protected her.

Made her feel like she belonged.

The choice was obvious.

"I choose them," she said. "I choose the pack."

The wolf's smile widened. Then it is done. From this moment, you are Luna. Leader. Protector. Mate to the alpha. It turned to look at something behind them. And your alpha approaches.

Anya spun.

Through the van's back window, she saw another vehicle. Closing fast.

Dimitri's car.

They'd made it out.

Relief. Sweet. Overwhelming.

The white wolf faded. Simply ceased to exist. Like it had never been there.

But Anya felt it. Felt something settle into place. Something ancient. Powerful.

The bond completed.

Not 40%. Not 30%.

Zero.

The immunity suppressant shattered completely. The bond slammed into place with a force that drove her to her knees.

She felt Dimitri. Felt his pain, his determination, his absolute certainty that she was his. Felt Alexei and Nikolai,pack brothers, bound by more than blood. Felt the shape of the pack, the web of connections that made them whole.

Felt herself at the center of it.

Luna.

"Anya?" Katya's voice. Scared. "What's happening?"

"I'm..." She gasped. Tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensation. "I'm becoming pack."

The van stopped. Doors opened. Dimitri was there. Bloodied. Battered. Alive.

He pulled her out. Held her. And the bond sang.

"I feel you," he whispered. "Christ, I feel everything."

"The bond completed."

"I know." He pulled back enough to see her face. "You're mine now. Permanently."

"I know."

"No regrets?"

She smiled. Broken. Beautiful. "Ask me in twelve hours."

Because Eleanor was coming. With everything she had. Every asset. Every operator. Every weapon.

Coming to end them.

And Anya, Luna, mate, protector, would be ready.

With her pack.

Her family.

Her home.

Protect what is yours, young Luna.

She intended to.

To the death.