A little over a week has passed since that night at Kayden's parents' house, and the transition has been more seamless than I ever dared to hope. Between the long, late-night conversations in their living room and a marathon brunch just a few days ago with Lydia and the girls, I feel like I've finally found my footing. Kayden's family is incredible. They are fierce, yes, but they are also deeply, unapologetically loving. They haven't just "accepted" me; they've gone out of their way to make me feel like I belong.
I've picked up so much about them in these few days. I learned that Asher's presence was a bit of a rarity—he's actually on a brief vacation, soaking up every moment of family time before he has to head back to his own responsibilities. And despite their constant bickering and the headlocks, it's clear that the respect they have for one another is absolute. Then there's Lucian. While he doesn't say much, his presence is a constant, steady hum of support. He's a man of few words, but you don't need a speech to see how much he loves his family. Every time he looks at Lydia or watches his children with that quiet, prideful gleam in his smoky blue eyes, you can see the heart of the man. I've truly grown to love them all. It's a strange, beautiful feeling—to realize that by choosing Kayden, I didn't just get a mate; I gained a whole world.
Throughout the past week, I've been fully immersed in the border pack restoration project. Amelia had originally pitched the idea back in the office, just before our dinner with Stella, and we didn't waste any time. The project was officially greenlit the very next day. At Amelia's request, she and I have been spearheading the entire operation. She felt—and I agreed—that seeing me on the front lines of the recovery effort would be the best way to acclimate the wolves to the idea of a Tiger Shifter in their midst. Two days after that initial meeting, the heavy hitters arrived.
A full working crew and a representative from a multi-million-dollar architectural and construction firm rolled into the territory. They are currently one of the top firms in the region, already in the process of going national, and it's easy to see why. The company is run exclusively by animal shifters. From the CEO down to the site laborers, they only hire our kind. It's a brilliant business model; with our superhuman strength, heightened stamina, and accelerated reflexes, the grueling labor of construction is a walk in the park. Watching them work is like watching a choreographed dance of power—tasks that would take humans weeks are completed in hours.
The firm's representative is Maria Evanstein. According to Amelia, Maria is the CEO's right hand, and the CEO herself is the Alpha of one of our neighboring border packs. Maria had informed us upon arrival that her boss was tied up with official pack affairs two states over and wouldn't be able to make an appearance until late next week.
Despite not getting her hands dirty with the physical labor, Miss Evanstein has been indispensable. She directs the crews with a level of precision that is almost terrifying—a literal whirlwind in a pencil skirt. Despite her pristine appearance, she runs the site with an iron fist. Honestly, she reminds me so much of Amelia, standing in the middle of a chaotic construction zone in her pristine heels, looking perfectly composed while everything around her is in flux.
My thoughts were cut off by Maria's sharp voice, cutting through the sound of circular saws. "No! Not like that, you idiot!" She was shouting at one of the larger builders who had clearly ignored a structural detail. When the burly man didn't immediately correct his mistake, Maria let out an exasperated huff and marched toward him, muttering under her breath about how "men are consistently the most difficult tools on a job site."
I chuckled as I watched her handle him, then turned my gaze back to the site. Even with my high expectations, I was stunned by the speed. Several residential buildings were already standing, their skeletons fully fleshed out and roofed. But the real triumph was the new pack house. It was nearly finished—a massive, sturdy structure designed to move the displaced families out of the temporary tents and housing we'd scrambled to set up. We weren't just rebuilding walls; we were restoring dignity to people who had lost everything in the raids.
Miss Evanstein turned and started heading back in my direction, all the while shaking her head and muttering to herself. She was undeniably beautiful, with large, deep russet eyes that enhanced her natural features. Her style was far more daring than Kayden's sisters; today, she had opted for a white off-the-shoulder crop top and a cream-colored pencil skirt that hit just above her knees. Paired with black open-toed heels, she looked more like she was attending a high-end brunch than overseeing a dusty rebuilding site.
When we first started working together, Maria had been noticeably standoffish. I assumed it was the natural friction between a wolf and a tiger shifter. However, the more we were forced to interact, the more those walls crumbled. Now, she seemed to linger around me constantly, even when the project didn't strictly require it. She stopped in front of me and let out an exasperated huff. "Why can't they be even half as efficient as you or Nova?" I couldn't help but chuckle. This wasn't the first time she had mentioned Nova—her best friend and the CEO of the firm.
Before I could reply to Maria, I spotted a familiar figure approaching. Lydia was making her way toward us, her pace purposeful and her smile bright. Maria recognized her immediately—likely remembering the whirlwind energy from the last time Lydia had whisked us away for brunch. Lydia came to a stop in front of us, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at Maria. "Do you think I could borrow Ari here for the time being?"
Maria glanced around the buzzing construction site, then back at Lydia with a supportive smile. "I think we can manage without her for the rest of the day. Everything is under control here, so feel free to take her." Lydia's smile widened into a beam. Without a moment's hesitation, she reached out and caught my hand, leading me toward the car she had just stepped out of. Once we were settled in the plush back seat, the driver pulled away, heading toward the heart of town. Lydia turned to me, her expression softening. "Unfortunately, no one else was able to join us for this short trip," she said warmly. "So I figured we could use this as a chance for some one-on-one bonding."
I couldn't help but chuckle. Her attempts to make me feel like part of the family were as sweet as they were persistent. "So, where are we off to this time?" She looked pleased that I was going along with the surprise so easily. "I need to pick up a few things in town, and while we're out that way, I thought we'd stop by the mall. I'd love to help pick out a few more outfits for you—and maybe a few for myself while we're at it."
I felt my eyebrows rise at her suggestion. "Trust me, I have plenty of clothes. Amelia made absolutely sure of that," I said, thinking of the whirlwind shopping spree Amelia had already put me through. Lydia laughed, a warm and musical sound, as she reached over to pat the back of my hand. "I'm sure Amelia did a wonderful job, dear. But," she added, her eyes sparkling with that signature Silvermoon mischief, "I might still pick up a few things for you as a gift. Think of it as a welcome present from your mate's mother."
I let out a mock sigh, though a genuine smile tugged at my lips. "When you put it like that, I could hardly refuse." "Exactly," she chirped, giving my hand one final, affectionate squeeze. She settled back into the plush leather seat, looking out the window with a contented expression as the driver navigated us toward the heart of the city. I followed her lead, watching the world blur by. For a few moments, the weight of being a "mythical" shifter and the stress of the rebuilding project felt miles away. In this car, I wasn't a warrior or a project leader—I was just a woman spending the afternoon with family.
*
After spending a few hours with Lydia, I could honestly say she and Amelia are cut from the same cloth—especially when it comes to their shopping habits. If someone told me Amelia was Lydia's biological daughter rather than just a childhood friend of Kayden's, I would believe them without hesitation. We had been wandering the mall for several hours now. The bustling midday crowd had long since thinned out, leaving only a few scattered shoppers drifting through the wide corridors. Despite the long day, Lydia made every minute interesting. We had laughed until our sides ached, and I found it incredibly easy to be around her. In some ways, she reminded me so much of my own mother; that realization helped ease the hollow ache of missing her, filling it instead with a strange, new warmth.
Lydia and I were walking out of a boutique, still laughing at one of her many stories about Kayden's more "troublesome" moments while growing up. I happened to glance up through the massive glass ceiling and noticed the sky was beginning to turn a deep, bruised purple as the sun started its slow descent. Lydia followed my gaze and let out a soft gasp. "Oh, goodness! I didn't realize it had gotten this late. I guess time really does fly when you're having fun." I chuckled, watching the last of the golden light catch the glass. Suddenly, she looped her arm through mine, leaning in close. "Well, we'd better head back now before the men start worrying about where we've disappeared to."
On our way back toward the parking lot, the air suddenly felt heavy. A sharp prickle started at the base of my neck and raced down my spine, forcing me to stop dead in my tracks. I ignored Lydia's confused and questioning look as I began to scan the area, my senses heightening until the world felt like it was moving in slow motion. We were still inside the mall, standing near the central fountain. The path ahead led toward the exit, but the stores on this wing were already shuttered and dark, casting long, jagged shadows across the floor. The hallway was dead quiet—no shoppers, no janitors, not even the distant hum of a security radio.
Then, I saw him. He was standing at the far end of the corridor, partially submerged in the gloom. Every instinct in my body screamed the truth before my mind could even process his face. He was a shifter, but he wasn't a wolf. There was a specific frequency vibrating in my mind, a primal hum that only a fellow feline could broadcast. He was a tiger. Just like me. A cold dread settled in my stomach. If one were here, the others wouldn't be far behind. This wasn't a chance encounter; it was an ambush. I knew we had to get out of this hallway and back to the car—now—before the rest of the streak showed up to finish what they started.
"Ari, what—" I didn't let her finish. I seized her hand and bolted, sprinting down the hallway toward the parking lot—the opposite direction from where he stood. Taken aback by the sudden explosion of movement, Lydia stumbled, nearly tripping as she scrambled to find her footing.
"Jesus, Ari! What has gotten into you?!" she gasped. I glanced back briefly; I was practically dragging her behind me, her lungs burning as she struggled to match my pace. Behind us, the man had recovered from his initial surprise. He was moving now, a blur of predatory speed as he began the hunt. We had a decent head start, but a head start wasn't enough. I had to get us clear of this building without leading a pack of tigers straight back to the Shadow Moon Pack's borders.
"Look, I don't have time to explain!" I shouted over the sound of our footfalls. "Just trust me. I'll explain everything later!" For a heartbeat, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing. Then, Lydia's voice came, firm and steady despite the chaos. "Okay. I trust you, Ari. I trust your judgment." I risked a look back. There wasn't a shred of doubt in her eyes, and a surge of gratitude flared in my chest.
I pushed harder, our shoes skidding on the polished floor. Lydia's heels clicked sharply against the tile, a frantic rhythm that echoed through the empty hall. We were only a few feet from the heavy glass doors that led to the parking lot and the safety of the car when the air suddenly shifted. Three more men stepped out from the shadows, flanking the exit and cutting off our escape. They didn't look like guards, and they didn't look like wolves. They stood with that same heavy, coiled power I felt in my own limbs. The path was blocked. We were trapped.
I skidded to a halt as the exit was cut off, but before I could even think of doubling back, the way behind us was swarmed as well. We were boxed in. To our left and right were solid walls and the cold iron grates of closed storefronts. There was no escape route, no clever maneuver—just the tightening circle of predators closing the gap. I could feel the tremor of uncertainty in Lydia's voice as she pressed closer to me. "Ari? What is happening? Who are these people?" I didn't answer with words. I couldn't. My focus was narrowing into the sharp, lethal point of a hunter. I shoved Lydia back until she was pinned against the wall, using my own body as a shield to wall her off from the coming onslaught. "Stay behind me," I commanded, my voice dropping into a low, vibrating growl. "I am going to keep you safe."
The promise hadn't even left my lips before they lunged. The first man reached for me, his fingers splayed as he tried to snag my shoulder. He was far too slow. I caught his wrist mid-air, the movement a blur of silver and steel. With a brutal, fluid motion, I wrenched his arm behind his back until the joint groaned. Before he could cry out, I drove my heel into the back of his kneecap with enough force to shatter the socket, sending him crashing to the floor in a heap of agonized yelps.
I didn't wait for him to stop moving. I stepped back, narrowly avoiding a roundhouse kick from the second attacker. As his leg whistled past my face, I moved in. I caught his calf before he could retract it, locking his leg in place. He was wide open. I didn't hesitate. I coiled my power and drove my fist directly into his exposed kneecap. The sound was sickening—a loud, wet snap that echoed through the hollow corridor like a gunshot. The man's scream was ear-piercing, a jagged sound that tore through the mall's silence. I didn't flinch as I saw the white jagged edge of bone burst through the skin on the other side of his leg. Two down. But the others were already adjusting, their eyes glowing with a dark, feline hunger as they realized I wasn't going to be an easy prize.
I didn't give them a second to breathe. I shifted my grip from the screaming man's calf to his ankle, using his entire body weight as a human flail. With a roar of effort, I swung him into the path of two incoming attackers, the impact sending all three of them sprawling across the polished tile. In the same movement, I lashed out at the man I'd initially grounded, sending him tumbling back into the pile of tangled limbs. I risked a glance toward Lydia.
Lydia had intercepted a man trying to flank us. She delivered a savage kick to his "family jewels" with such precision that he dropped to his knees instantly. Before he could even draw breath to scream, she stepped into his space, her thumbs driving deep into his eye sockets with a ferocity that made my own blood run cold. He wailed in agony, blood beginning to trickle down his face as his hands scrambled for her wrists.
He was about to get a grip on her when I moved. I delivered a mid-air sidekick into his ribs, the force of it launching him across the hall like he'd been hit by a truck. His head connected with the solid wall with a sickening thud, and he slumped to the floor, out cold. Lydia met my eyes and gave a sharp, determined nod—a silent pact that she had my back. I returned the nod, my heart swelling with respect, before spinning around just in time to face off with the next person who dared to charge toward me. I slipped his clumsy lead hook and countered with a thunderous uppercut to his jaw. The snap of his teeth closing was audible. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he staggered back, but he was a Tiger—his resilience was cursed. He spat a glob of crimson and lunged again, this time putting his full weight behind a desperate punch.
As his fist whistled toward my face, I ducked, catching his extended arm to anchor myself. Using his own momentum as a pivot, I launched a devastating roundhouse kick into the abdomen of another man closing in from my right. The impact was hollow and deep. The man hit the floor and immediately began to heave, the sheer force of the blow causing his stomach to reject its contents right there on the tile.
A sharp, surprised gasp from Lydia made my blood run cold. I spun around just in time to see an attacker seizing her wrists, beginning to haul her toward the shadows. My reaction was instantaneous and primal. Still gripping the arm of the man I was fighting, I pivoted, turning my back to him and driving a powerful kick into his midsection. The force sent him airborne. Before he could even register the gravity, I used my grip on his arm to swing him over my head like a ragdoll, launching his body directly at the man holding Lydia.
The collision was thunderous. My "human projectile" slammed into the kidnapper, sending him staggering back into a third man before they all crashed to the floor in a tangled heap. Caught off guard by the sheer violence of the move, the man's grip snapped, and Lydia stumbled free. She gave me a quick, breathless nod of thanks before bracing herself for the next wave. But as I looked back, I realized a dangerous gap had formed between us. The tigers were already surging into that space, trying to isolate her.
Seeing Lydia hold her own had caused me to let my guard down for a split second, a mistake I couldn't afford. These weren't common rogues; they were highly trained tiger shifters. If I were alone, I could shift and tear through them in heartbeats, vanishing into the night with ease. But I couldn't leave her. I knew exactly what these men would do to her if they got their hands on her. The memory of those I had lost back at the Silverfang manor burned in my mind like white-hot iron. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her—or anyone my mate loved. I would never let history repeat itself. Not here. Not today.
I didn't hesitate. I began bulldozing my way back toward Lydia, throwing my entire weight into the charge. I became a force of nature, tossing and incapacitating anyone who stepped into my path. Every strike I delivered was precise and calculated to maim—I wasn't aimlessly swinging; I was systematically dismantling their ability to fight. Shattered joints, crushed windpipes, broken limbs—I made sure that once they hit the floor, they stayed there.
I reached Lydia just as a set of hands reached for her. Before those filthy fingers could even graze her skin, my fist connected with the man's face. The sickening crunch of his nose and orbital bone breaking echoed through the hall. He staggered back, his hands flying to his face as dark, thick blood began to seep between his fingers. I didn't give him a second to recover. I lashed out with a kick so powerful it lifted him off his feet, sending him flying backward into the men behind him like a bowling ball hitting pins.
I felt Lydia press against my side. Her expression was tight, her breathing ragged and heavy. I could tell the adrenaline was starting to wear thin, and the sheer number of attackers was beginning to overwhelm her wolf instincts. She was strong, but she wasn't built for a war against multiple tigers. "Stay close to me," I commanded, my voice low and lethal. "I'm going to carve us a way out of here." She gave a sharp, frantic nod. With her hand gripped firmly on my shoulder, I shifted gears. I stopped reacting and started driving. I began to bulldoze through the center of their formation, clearing a bloody, broken path toward the exit.
I was so close. Only one or two men stood between us and the exit, and I was preparing to tear through them when the world tilted. I heard Lydia let out a sharp, choked gasp, and the weight of her presence at my side vanished. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, only to see a tall, muscular brute holding Lydia flush against his chest. A wicked, curved dagger was pressed firmly against the delicate skin of her throat. I gritted my teeth, a low, murderous growl vibrating in my chest. I was coiled to spring, ready to rip him apart before he could even blink, when the sound of slow, rhythmic clapping stopped me cold.
"Impressive as always, Artemis. I didn't expect you to be able to cause this much damage to my men—especially with such heavy baggage holding you back." The moment that voice hit my ears, my blood turned to ice. My hands balled into white-knuckled fists at my sides as I slowly turned to face him. I didn't need to see him to know who it was, but there he stood, looking exactly as he did the last time I saw him, that same insufferable, smug smile plastered on his lips.
He looked every bit the "Golden Prince" his fans made him out to be. His sun-kissed hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that rested over his shoulder, and his almond-shaped, sky-blue eyes sparkled with an intelligence that hid a void of darkness. With his soft yet masculine features, he looked like a hero out of a storybook—until his temper flared and those features turned sharp and deadly. He stood casually, all six-foot-two of him, wearing a loose-fitted white shirt left open to display his pale, pristine chest. He always believed his complexion made him look more royal; if you asked the "giggle girls" who followed him around, they'd agree. Too bad his personality was absolute poison.
"Zander," I growled, the name tasting like ash in my mouth. His smile widened, looking genuinely pleased that he still held a place in my nightmares. "You know, I've spent a very long time searching for you, Artemis. It was quite rude of you to disappear all those years ago without completing your sacred duty." He began walking toward me with a slow, predatory grace. I instinctively took a step back, my eyes darting toward the shadows, frantically calculating an escape route that would get us both out alive. Zander made a sharp tsking sound. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
He snapped his fingers. Lydia let out a strangled cry of pain, her body jerking against her captor. I spun around, my heart stopping. The brute had pressed the curved blade firmly against her throat—not deep enough to kill, but enough to draw a thin trickle of crimson. But it wasn't just a cut. Where the metal met her skin, the flesh was beginning to hiss and blacken. "Silver?" I breathed, the word a horrified whisper. Zander chuckled, drawing my attention back to him. He was casually testing the edge of his own dagger with his thumb, his expression one of mild amusement. "Nifty little things, aren't they? Silver does nothing to our kind, of course, but to these pathetic little wolves, it's far more effective than a simple blade. I've heard the burns feel like liquid fire coursing through their veins."
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might shatter. I balled my fists until my nails pierced my palms, the sting of my own blood the only thing keeping me from losing control. Zander's gaze drifted past me to Lydia, then snapped back to mine, cold and absolute. "If you don't want anything unfortunate to happen to your little friend, you will behave. If you try to run or if you try to fight, you are risking her life. And I assure you, Artemis... if you fail me again, I will take great pleasure in experimenting on her—and every other member of that silly little pack you've crawled into."
I glared at his smug face, the blood in my veins boiling with a red-hot rage that threatened to consume my logic. I forced it down, burying the tiger deep. Through clenched teeth, I willed my body to relax, uncurling my blood-stained fingers and slowly releasing a long, shaky breath. "Fine," I spat. "We'll do it your way. Now, move that blade away from her neck and ensure no further harm comes to her." A slow, satisfied smile etched across Zander's lips, looking like a predator that had finally cornered its prize. "Very well."
He gave a slight nod. I turned to look at Lydia and felt a pang of guilt as the brute pulled the silver blade back, though he maintained a crushing grip on her arm. Her fear-stricken expression softened with a flicker of relief, but I could see the damage was already done. The deep silver burns on her throat were already beginning to blister, and the thin cut looked angry and inflamed—the silver acting like a toxin, making the wound appear instantly infected.
Lydia's eyes suddenly went wide, darting to something behind me. Her mouth flew open. "Ari, watch out!" But the warning was a heartbeat too late. Before I could even begin to pivot, something heavy and solid slammed into the back of my skull with bone-shattering force. The world fractured into a million white sparks. The last thing I saw was Lydia frantically struggling against her captor, her silent screams echoing in my mind just before the sparks faded and I was consumed by a cold, absolute darkness.
*
I watched the sky deepen into a bruised indigo. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only a faint, dying sliver of light to illuminate the trees. I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window, my skin prickling with an unease I couldn't quite name. What was taking them so long? As if sensing my agitation, Luca stepped into my office. One look at my face and he was already closing the door. "Everything okay?" I ran my fingers through my hair, the strands catching in my frustrated grip. "I just don't understand what is keeping them. They should have been back an hour ago." Luca stepped fully into the room, leaning against the edge of my desk. "Your mother and Ari, right?"
"Yes," I sighed, the word heavy with a growing sense of dread. He checked his watch and gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's not even that late, Kayden." I let out a sharp, cynical scoff, but he just shook his head. "Maybe they stopped for dinner? Amelia has done that a dozen times, especially when she's having too much fun to notice the clock. I know things are still new, and your instincts are on high alert, but you have to trust her. They'll be back soon. There's no reason to pace a hole in the floor."
I groaned, leaning forward and dropping my head into my crossed arms on the desk. "Does this ever get any easier? This constant... pull?" Luca chuckled, a low and sympathetic sound. "No. But you'll get used to it. You'll learn how to work through the noise."
"Thanks for the confidence booster," I muttered sarcastically into my sleeves. I felt his hand clap my shoulder, a steady weight. When I looked up, he had circled the desk to drop another stack of paperwork on the corner of my blotter. "You'll be fine. Besides, you've already survived the hard part." I blinked at him in confusion. "The hard part?"
"She agreed to stay," Luca said with a small smile. "You've accepted each other despite every mountain that was thrown in your path. If you can handle that form of agony, I think you can handle waiting patiently for her to come home from the mall."
I rolled my eyes, though I had to admit his words made the knot in my chest loosen slightly. "It's still weird hearing you be so 'pro-Artemis,'" I teased. Luca shrugged, rounding the desk and lounging lazily across the leather sofa. "It's kind of hard to hold a grudge against someone after she protected me—and half the pack—from that rogue ambush. Besides," he added, looking thoughtful, "she's working herself to the bone on the restoration project. Honestly? She's doing a better job with those other packs than you or I ever could."
I raised an eyebrow, and he continued, "My mate and the rest of the crew won't stop raving about her. They're obsessed with her work ethic and her ideas for the layout. Hearing that on a daily basis would make anyone a fan." A slow, prideful smile spread across my face as he spoke about her. "She's amazing, isn't she?"
Luca let out a dramatic groan and grabbed a decorative pillow from the sofa, hurling it at my head. I caught it with a flick of my wrist before it could knock over my coffee. "God, you are so whipped," he laughed. I rolled my eyes and chucked the pillow back at him with a bit more force. "As if you're any better with Amelia." He caught the pillow against his chest, a genuine, soft smile finally breaking through his teasing exterior. "It's kind of nice, isn't it? Having them here?" I leaned back in my chair, the tension finally leaving my shoulders for the first time all day. "Yeah," I breathed, a sense of peace settling over me. "It really is."
We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in thoughts of our mates, until Luca suddenly cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "So, have you had a chance to look at that file I left for you?" Confusion spiked in my chest. "Which file?" Luca rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "The one you asked for—the information on Artemis. I didn't want to bring it up while she or Amelia were around, or I would have asked you sooner." I felt my eyebrows knit together. "Luca, there was no file on my desk. When did you leave it? Are you even sure you brought it in here?"
He sat up straight, his relaxed posture vanishing as he stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I left that file on your desk later in the evening that day of the rogue attack, Kayden. I'm positive." I shook my head, but he was already moving. He shot off the couch and crossed the room in two strides, his hands flying through the stacks of paper on my desk. We both searched, shifting ledgers and blueprints, but the folder was nowhere to be found. Luca stood back, looking genuinely irritated as he raked his fingers through his hair. "I set it right there," he insisted, gesturing emphatically to a spot near my lamp. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy. I know what I did."
I sighed, opening my mouth to tell him he probably just misplaced it, but he cut me off before I could speak. "Has anyone else been in here who shouldn't have? Or..." He trailed off, his eyes darkening. "Do you think one of our mates could have taken it?" The room went deathly quiet as the weight of that question settled between us. If Artemis had taken it, she was hiding something. If Amelia had taken it, she was protecting her friend. But if someone else had taken it... "Cameras!" Luca suddenly shouted, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. I jumped at his sudden outburst, but the logic clicked instantly. My fingers flew across the keyboard, my heart racing as I pulled up the security interface for the pack house. "Checking the office feed now."
I logged into the system, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Luca hovered over my shoulder, his breath hitching as I pulled up the archives from the day of the rogue attack. I found the timestamp and hit play. The footage was grainy but clear. We watched as Luca entered the room, placed the manila folder near the lamp exactly where he'd said, and walked back out. "See! I told you!" he barked, his voice a mix of triumph and lingering anxiety.
I didn't answer. I kept my eyes glued to the screen, dragging the playback bar forward. We watched the room in high-speed—the sun shifting across the floor, a maid coming in to empty the bin—until I saw a flash of movement at the door. I slowed the feed to real-time. My stomach dropped. Alisha stepped into the frame. She was completely naked, tears streaking down her face while clutching a silk robe loosely in her hands. Luca shot me a look of pure shock, but I couldn't look away from the screen.
As Alisha reached my desk, her expression changed. The mask of the scorned lover dropped, and for a split second, her features seemed to shift—morphing into something cold, calculating, and predatory. It was a look I had never seen on her face in all the years I'd known her. She picked up the file. She didn't just glance at it; she read the name on the tab—Artemis. A slow, venomous grin spread across her lips, a look of pure malice that made the hair on my arms stand up. Without a hint of hesitation, she tucked the folder under her arm and slipped out of the office.
Luca reached over and paused the feed, the image of Alisha's smug grin frozen on the screen. "Well," he said, his voice tight, "at least we know who took it." I ran my fingers through my hair, my mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. "Yes, but why did she take it. It makes no sense." Luca stepped back, his expression grim. "I don't know. But I do know the only way we're going to get answers is to find her and make her talk." I let out a heavy sigh and pushed back my chair, my Alpha instincts starting to flare under my skin. "You're right. Let's go."
He nodded, and we both turned to head for the door. But before we could take a single step, the office door burst open with a deafening bang. I froze. Standing in the doorway was the driver I had personally assigned to my mother for the day. He was a seasoned warrior, but he looked like he'd been through a war zone. His tie was mangled as if he'd been wringing it in terror, his clothes were wrinkled and stained, and his hair was a windswept mess. He was doubled over, gasping for air as if he'd run the entire way back to the pack house.
A cold, heavy knot formed in the pit of my stomach. "They're gone, Alpha!" he wheezed, his voice cracking with pure desperation. My heart clenched so painfully I could barely breathe. The air in the room suddenly felt thin. "Who is gone?" I demanded, though the answer was already screaming in the back of my mind. The driver looked up, and the sheer terror in his eyes confirmed my darkest fears. "Your mother and your mate, sir. They've been taken."
A surge of volcanic rage erupted in my chest, hot and blinding. "What do you mean they're gone?!" I roared, the sound vibrating the windows in their frames. "People don't just vanish into thin air!" The driver flinched violently at the sound of my voice, his hands trembling as he began to fiddle nervously with his sleeves, unable to meet my eyes. As I took a menacing step toward him, my wolf clawing at the surface to get to the man who had failed us, he began to cower, his back hitting the doorframe. Before I could seize him by the throat, a firm arm shot out, blocking my path.
"Kayden, stop," Luca commanded. I spun on him, my eyes likely glowing a predatory amber, but he didn't blink. "Take a team of warriors and get to the mall. Now. See if you can find any clues—scent trails, security footage, anything that tells us where they went." I opened my mouth to argue, to demand that I be the one to squeeze the truth out of the driver, but Luca cut me off with a sharp look. "Go," he urged. "I'll handle things here. I'll find out everything this man knows and track down Alisha. I'll contact you the second I have a lead." I knew he was right. Every second I spent screaming at the driver was a second that could be used to search for my mate's whereabouts. I gave a sharp, jerky nod, my jaw tight enough to crack bone. I didn't say another word, but as I stormed past the driver, I leveled a glare at him so cold it made him audibly swallow his breath. I was out the door and sprinting toward the barracks before he could even find his feet.