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Ground Zero
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2026-05-14 12:00:33The Heights Opera House was packed with the elite: politicians, generals, and CEOs.
I spotted Caspian near the staircase. He looked like a god of the New World, dressed in a tuxedo that probably cost more than the Ravaged Pack's entire territory. He was holding a glass of amber liquid, his eyes scanning the room with the bored detachment of a man who already owned everything.
I didn't wait for him to see me. I walked straight into his line of sight, a
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The Wolfpack's New Receptionist Ground Zero
The Heights Opera House was packed with the elite: politicians, generals, and CEOs.I spotted Caspian near the staircase. He looked like a god of the New World, dressed in a tuxedo that probably cost more than the Ravaged Pack's entire territory. He was holding a glass of amber liquid, his eyes scanning the room with the bored detachment of a man who already owned everything.I didn't wait for him to see me. I walked straight into his line of sight, a glass of wine in my hand.I watched the moment he noticed me. The boredom vanished, replaced by a sharp, predatory focus. He set his glass down and moved through the crowd toward me, his eyes never leaving mine."Eloise," he whispered as he reached me.He didn't look at my dress; he looked at my throat, searching for the pulse."I heard a rumor you were back in the city. I didn't believe it."
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist I'm His Nightmare Now
In the center of the executive boardroom, Jax and Viper had created a digital war room that looked like a scar on the face of corporate luxury. Tangled black cables snaked across Persian rugs, and six monitors flickered with emerald-green data streams."I’ve got it," Jax whispered, his fingers flying across a haptic keyboard Harrison had provided."The 'Secure-Coms Node' from across the street. I’m piggybacking on their satellite uplink."I stood behind him, my hand resting on his shoulder."What am I looking at, Jax?""A census, El," he said, his voice trembling."But not for humans. It’s a ‘Harvest Manifest.’"A list scrolled down the screen. Highland Pack: 14 captured. Tundra Strays: 8 liquidated, 4 taken. Desert Runners: Sector clear.Beside me, Torin let out a sound that was
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist Right Under Their Noses
For the first time in months, I woke up feeling well-rested.I sat on a mossy ledge, tightening the straps of my tactical boots. Below me, the clearing was a hive of quiet activity.Cane was standing near the center of the clearing, checking the charge on his sidearm. He looked refreshed, the amber light in his eyes calm and steady. But as I watched him, a movement near the treeline caught my eye.Viper emerged from the thick curtain of weeping moss. He looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backward... and enjoyed every second of it. His buzz-cut hair was a chaotic mess of twigs and leaves, and he was engaged in a desperate, one-handed struggle to pull up the waistband of his elastic tactical pants, which seemed determined to stay at his hips.A moment later, Raya stepped out from the same shadow. She was smoothing down her tunic, her skin glowing in the morning light. She had a smudge of dirt on her
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist United We Stand
The truce was a fragile thing; it was a mutual exhaustion of two packs that had nearly torn each other apart. As we left the frozen Chimera behind, Cane took the lead.He didn't head back toward the ruins of our warehouse. Instead, he steered his Ghost-Bike deeper into the heart of the Everglades.This was the "True North" of the Silver Moon. Up until this moment, the Bloodhounds had lived in the warehouse, acting as the pack’s shield and high-tech vanguard. We were the guardians at the gate, but we had never been invited into the garden."Stay close," Cane’s voice echoed through the mental link, stripped of its earlier combat-edge."The perimeter is rigged. If you step off the path, the swamp will do the work before I can stop it."The path was invisible to the naked eye, a series of submerged limestone ridges that felt like a tightrope beneath the tires of our bikes
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist A New Aliance
The Ravaged Pack didn’t waver. The Thorne tech in their hands, hummed with a predatory blue light."You fought well, Silver-Blood," Torin repeated, his voice cold and devoid of the desperation I’d seen in the warehouse.He stood tall now, the Alpha’s command flowing back into his scarred frame."But this is where the road splits. We’re taking the gear. And we’re taking this territory."Cane took a slow, deliberate step forward. His silver fur was matted with the Chimera’s black residue, and his eyes flashed with a warning light that usually made men drop to their knees."This territory belongs to the Silver Moon. My pack. You’re standing on the only ground we have left, Torin. We are wolves of this soil, just like you."Torin’s lip curled into a sneer, revealing yellowed canines."Wolves? Yo
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist The Standoff
The rain in the Everglades saturated the air, turning the smoke from our ruined home into a grey shroud. We tore through the sawgrass on the remaining Ghost-Bikes, with more wolves following us on foot."They're slowing down," I signaled through the comms.Cane didn't respond. Beside him, Viper and Vane rode with a grim, practiced silence.We ditched the bikes where the ground turned into a treacherous, knee-deep slurry of peat and ancient roots. We moved on foot in our matte-black tactical suits, our boots silent against the wet limestone. The scent of the rivals was overwhelming now.We reached a natural clearing, a bowl of cypress trees draped in weeping moss. In the center, the Red Alpha stood over the stolen cases. He looked broken, his human form shivering despite the humidity, his ribs visible through his soot-stained skin."End of the line," Cane’s voice was a low,
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist A Special Kind of Stupid
At 5:30 AM, the rain stopped, leaving the city dripping and wet. I drove back to the garage.As I pulled into the gravel lot, the silver SUV was no longer a block away. It was parked directly across from the gate, its engine idling. The "Shadow", the contractor my father had hired, was standing by
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist The Alpha’s Den
The garage was a cage of steel, its concrete floors stained black by decades of oil and grease and god-knows what else.The ceiling was forty feet high with heavy steel beams and dangling chains. Huge industrial fans spun overhead, doing little to cut the heat.
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist The Alpha's Mate
Behind us lay the construction site, but ahead, the Southern District’s main drainage stretched out like the throat of a beast, wet and echoing.Cane didn't move immediately. He stood by the Wraith, his hand resting on the handlebars, his amber eyes cutting through the gloom. The scars on his chest
The Wolfpack's New Receptionist A Ride to Remember
For forty-eight hours, the bunker had been a battlefield for Cane. I had watched Cane’s body seize, his muscles rippling in spasms as his natural healing factor fought the serum my father had engineered.By the second night, the sweating struggle subsided. The swelling in Cane’s chest receded, and
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