The Alpha's Fated White Wolf
“No one leaves. I want Reeve alive. The rest are secondary.”
The radio went to short, clipped tactical exchanges. I could not see what was happening, but the bond gave me pieces: Damian leaving the vehicle, the cold night air, the quiet approach, the moment he crossed the threshold into the building. Violence followed—fast, controlled, and absolute. I felt the impact of a fight through him, the brief flare of pain when something caught his arm, and the darker satisfaction when resistance broke.
My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against the table and tried to breathe through the flood of sensation.