Chapter 2 - Rafael
The autumn wind carries her scent to me before I even enter the briefing room—jasmine, gunpowder, and something else that makes my wolf stir uneasily. I pause in the doorway, watching Thalia Reyes bend over a stack of tactical reports, dark curls falling forward to shield her face.
She's been here less than twenty-four hours, and already she's made herself at home, settling into our morning briefing like she belongs here.
"You gonna stand there all day?" Zane's drawl breaks through my thoughts. He's lounging against the wall, dark tattoos stark against his arms where he's rolled up his sleeves. "Or are you actually gonna join the meeting?"
"Just thinking."
"Dangerous habit." He follows my gaze to Thalia, then smirks, seeming to understand. “Ha.”
I ignore the suggestion in his tone, moving to take my usual seat. Sharp-eyed as always, Keira raises an eyebrow at our exchange but says nothing. The rest of the team filters in gradually—Percy already caffeinated and bouncing, Ado silent as always. The room feels emptier without Byron's constant typing and Olivia's quick wit, but with their daughter weeks old, they're both taking much-needed time away, only helping out a few hours a week.
"Morning, everyone." Aris enters last, coffee in hand. Dark circles under his eyes betray another sleepless night. We're all feeling the strain of constant vigilance, but our Alpha bears the heaviest burden. "Let's get started."
I lean back, watching as Thalia straightens in her chair. Everything about her is precise—the way she holds her pen, the angle of her spine, the careful neutrality of her expression.
"First order of business," Aris continues, "inventory assessment. Ms. Reyes, I believe you've had a chance to review our current capabilities?"
"Yes." Thalia's voice is clear, confident. "I've identified several areas where we could improve, particularly regarding non-lethal and defensive options. Your current stock is heavily weighted toward offensive capabilities."
"We've had reason to be offensive lately," I cut in, unable to help myself. "Or did you miss the scorch marks on the walls?"
She meets my gaze steadily. "I saw them. I also saw the civilian buildings that took collateral damage. With better containment options, that might have been avoided."
It's a good point, damn her.
Aris leans forward. "And what would you suggest?"
Thalia clears her throat. She looks in her element, every part of the industry expert she sold herself as. "Barrier tech, for starters. The latest models can be deployed remotely, creating safe zones for non-combatants. Also, your EMPs are outdated—newer versions can target shifter abilities specifically, temporarily suppressing or slowing transformation without affecting bystanders."
"Sounds expensive," Zane comments.
"Everything worth having is." Her smile is stringent, but there's something genuine underneath. She clearly has a real passion for her work. "I have contacts who could help with the acquisition."
"Of course you do."
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Thalia's eyes narrow slightly. "Is there a problem, Mr. Diaz?"
"Rafael," I correct automatically, then immediately regret it when something flickers in her dark eyes. "And no, no problem. Just curious about these contacts."
"As curious as I am about why a part-vampire works with a shifter pack?"
The room goes silent. Even Aris stills, coffee cup halfway to his lips.
I usually have better control over my face, but I’m scowling. "That information is in my file."
"So are my contacts in mine." Her tone is still perfectly pleasant. "Shall we focus on the matter at hand?"
From the corner of my eye, I see Keira hide a smile behind her hand. Even Ado looks faintly amused. I lean back in my chair, conceding the point with a nod, but my eyes never leave her face. There's something compelling about the way she holds herself—fierce but contained, like a storm about to break.
"Right," Aris says, clearing his throat. "Let's move on to the intel Keira gathered yesterday."
Keira steps forward, spreading photographs across the table. "We've confirmed movement in the Weber territory, not far from here. Small pack, relatively new to the area, but they've been making noise about Rosecreek overstepping its bounds with the Haverwoods. They think we should have stayed out of it.”
"Define noise," Bigby prompts lowly, leaning forward to examine a grainy surveillance shot.
"Threats, mostly. But last night, our sensors picked up weapons being moved through their territory. Military-grade." Keira's expression is grim. "And there's chatter about a hit being planned."
"On who?" Thalia asks, though something in her voice suggests she already knows the answer.
"Me," Aris says quietly. “And probably Bigby, next. Zane and Maisie are also in potential danger; they’ve moved temporarily into the pack center so we can monitor them, though we can’t keep them there for long, not with the baby on the way.”
The autumn wind rattles the windows, sending yellow leaves skittering past outside. Through the glass, I can see Halfmoon Lake in the far distance, its surface choppy with the approaching storm. The weather matches the mood in the room—dark, unsettled, with worse coming.
"We need eyes on their compound," I say, already planning routes in my head. "Figure out exactly what we're dealing with."
"Agreed." Aris nods. "Simple recon, for now. Rafael, I want you to lead. Take Thalia—test out those weapons expertise of hers."
My wolf bristles at the thought of having her at my back, but I keep my expression neutral. "When?"
"Tonight. The storm should provide good cover."
"I know the Weber territory," Thalia offers, surprising me. When we all look at her, she shrugs. "I've done jobs in that area before. Their security tends to be heaviest on the east side, but there's a blind spot near their northern border where the trees thin out."
It's exactly the kind of information we need, which only makes me more suspicious. I study her face, looking for any tell, any sign that she's lying, but her expression remains perfectly composed. Only a slight tension around her eyes betrays that she might be nervous about the upcoming mission.
"Good to know," is all I say.
The meeting continues, but I find myself increasingly distracted by small details about her—the way she turns her silver ring when she's thinking, the slight furrow between her brows as she studies the maps, the graceful line of her throat when she tilts her head to examine a photograph. Even her scent is distracting, especially when the wind shifts and carries it stronger in my direction.
Finally, Aris dismisses everyone to prepare for tonight's operation. As the others file out, I catch his eye, and he nods, understanding my unspoken request to talk.
"Walk with me," he says once we're alone.
We head outside, following the path that winds around the pack center down into Rosecreek. The air is crisp with the approaching winter, and fallen leaves crunch under our boots. Neither of us speaks until we reach the small path that forks in the direction of the residential district. Here, we will separate.
We stand for a moment, watching the falling leaves, the broiling clouds high in the sky overhead.
"You don't trust her," Aris says finally. It's not a question.
"Do you?"
He sighs, looking out toward the water in the distance. "I trust that we need her. You saw those inventory reports—our weapons cache was hit hard in the last attack. We're vulnerable right now. More vulnerable than I'd like anyone to know."
"Which is exactly why we should be careful about who we let in." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. "She's hiding something. I can feel it."
"Of course she is." Aris turns to face me, his expression serious. "Everyone has secrets. The question is whether hers are dangerous to us."
"And if they are?"
"Then we'll deal with it." He puts a hand on my shoulder. "But for now, I need you to work with her. Watch her, yes, but also give her a chance to prove herself. We can't afford to turn away help right now, not with threats coming from all sides."
I turn to face the lake, watching a flock of geese arrow across the grey sky. The wind picks up, carrying the scent of rain. The storm will hit before nightfall, which will work in our favor for the recon, but means we'll be operating in miserable conditions. Perfect.
"Keep an eye on her tonight," Aris says finally. "But remember—if she wanted to hurt us, she'll have easier opportunities than a night mission in the rain."
"I know,” I mutter.
Aris laughs. "You're starting to sound like Byron. Speaking of which, how are they doing?"
"Exhausted but happy." I can't help smiling, remembering how proud Byron looked when I stopped by with coffee this morning. "Carmen’s getting bigger every day. She’s got Byron’s nose.”
"Poor kid."
We share a chuckle, and for a moment, everything feels normal.
"I should go prepare for tonight," I say.
Aris nods. "Be careful out there. And Rafael?" He catches my arm as I turn to leave. "Try not to let your suspicion blind you to other possibilities."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, sometimes people surprise you." His smile turns cryptic. "Even when you're determined not to let them."
I spend the rest of the afternoon reviewing maps of the Weber territory and checking my gear. The storm rolls in exactly as predicted, fat drops of rain pattering against the windows of the armory as I clean my weapons. The routine is soothing, helps me focus on the mission ahead instead of the way Thalia's scent lingers in my mind.
She arrives precisely on time, dressed in black tactical gear that hugs her curves in ways I firmly tell myself not to notice. Her curls are pulled back severely from her face, emphasizing the sharp line of her jaw and the fullness of her lips. She moves with fluid grace as she checks her own weapons, and her movements are economical and practiced.
"Ready?" I ask, keeping my tone professional.
She looks up, and something vulnerable flashes across her face for a moment. But it's gone so quickly I might have imagined it.
"Ready," she confirms, sliding a knife into her boot.