Chapter Ten #2
“Pride and Enforcers split the force,” Kieran said at last, his tone iron. “One unit protects the families and the children. Noncombatants don’t leave this building until it’s safe.”
Liam nodded, his jaw tight. “We secure the lower floors. Safe rooms are stocked and reinforced. No one touches them.”
Rafe’s wolf gleamed in his eyes. “Drake brothers will run the perimeter. Anyone sniffing around who doesn’t belong—dead before they make the lobby.”
Violet snorted without looking up from her monitors. “I’ll send you a list of locals and delivery guys, just in case you two go all stabby-killy on some poor pizza kid who isn’t part of the kill-for-all.”
Rafe barked a laugh. “I would appreciate that, thank you.”
Rune’s tiger stretched under his skin, a predator straining to be unleashed. He forced his voice even, calm. “Kamon and I stay mobile. We strike where needed. Hit and run, surgical. Our mate stays here in the Bat Cave under guard, no exceptions.” His gaze cut toward Kieran, daring anyone to argue.
No one did. Not even Jackson, though his smirk said he wanted to. Rune kept his eyes on him a beat too long, making it clear—challenge me and bleed.
Beside him, Kamon rolled his shoulders. “We’ll coordinate with Klarissa on comms. She’ll keep eyes and ears on all feeds, flag threats before they breach.”
“Already on it,” Klarissa said without looking up, fingers flying across her keyboard. “Anyone so much as breathes wrong near this building or anyone on our side and I’ll light them up on screen before you smell them.”
He turned to look in Violet’s direction. “I am assuming you’ll be kicking ass and taking names in this wee shit storm of ours.”
Violet looked at him over her shoulder, not even stopping the coding she was working on. “That would be a hell, yes, B1 with cherries and a whole hand full of popping candy on the top. I will absolutely be fighting side by side with my mates.”
“What could a small, cute little thing like you do against trained killers?” Jackson said snidely, obviously unable to keep his fucking mouth shut for any length of time. “Maybe you should come fight by me, sweet thing, so I can keep you safe and close.”
Violet arched a brow, finally turning from her screens long enough to pull her twin batons from the rack beside her desk.
She twirled them once, the sharp whistle of metal through air punctuating her sarcasm.
“Cute little thing, huh? Tell you what, Jackson—get in my way and I’ll show you just how cute I look when I’m cracking ribs. ”
Mason’s deep voice rumbled from across the room. “My mate doesn’t need anyone to fight for her. She’s already racked up a higher kill count in this war than I have.”
Jackson blinked, frowning as though trying to decide if Mason was joking. “You’re lying.”
Kieran’s stare cut like a blade. “He’s not. And I dare you to call me a liar.”
Jackson looked away, wisely keeping his mouth shut this time.
Jacob chuckled darkly. “I get the sense you three—Caleb, Jackson, Wyatt—are hoping for a Suzy Homemaker to smooth your ruffled fur. Personally, I hope you end up with the exact opposite. The kickass antithesis of Suzy Homemaker, and I can only hope I am there to see you all, especially you, Jackson, stick your size twenty feet into your mouths time after time.”
Josie stood near the door, arms crossed. “I’ll stand outside the safe room doors. If anyone gets through, they’ll have to go through me before they touch the children.”
“No!” Kieran and Liam’s voices hit in unison. Both of them snapped their heads toward her, eyes wide. Josie’s glare pinned them in place.
“Why not?” she demanded, voice sharp enough to cut steel.
They blustered, tripping over half-formed excuses until Liam finally blurted, his Irish lilt thickening under the pressure, “Because you’re pregnant with our cubs!”
The room went still. For a heartbeat, only the hum of Violet’s computers filled the silence.
Gasps, murmurs—congratulations from every corner. Even Rune’s chest eased for a fraction, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.
Josie blinked, stunned. “Pregnant ... with cubs? As in plural?”
Kieran winced, exchanging a quick glance with Liam before answering, “Aye. Plural.” His gaze flicked toward the three Holt lions, as though daring them to comment.
Josie swayed, pale as parchment. “Plural,” she repeated faintly, and nearly crumpled.
Her mates were on her in an instant, guiding her to the couch. Someone thrust a glass of water into her hands. Kieran stroked her hair back from her face while Liam crouched at her feet, murmuring reassurances.
Shock still rippled through the room, but beneath it lay warmth—congratulations, pride, and a new layer of ferocity in every protective gaze turned toward Josie.
Rune watched the room fall into shape, the chaos hardening into lines of defense and offense. It wasn’t perfect—too many alphas in one space never was—but it would hold. It had to.
Inside, though, the war churned deeper. Klarissa.
His mate. Every time he let himself glance at her, pale but steady beside Violet’s bank of screens, the urge to lock her away somewhere untouchable nearly swallowed him whole.
But he couldn’t. She wasn’t a fragile thing to hide. She was the very reason they fought.
Kamon caught his eye, the silent bond of twins bridging thought. Protect her. Protect them all. Rune dipped his chin once, a vow made flesh.
The war was already here. And this time, Rune intended to meet it claw for claw, blood for blood. But that was for tomorrow. Tonight? Well, that was a different story.
Rune and Kamon shared a long glance, silent agreement sparking between them. Rune straightened, his voice steady as he addressed the room. “We’ll be back in the morning. We need to rest before tomorrow.”
Kamon nodded once, and together they crossed to Klarissa. Rune plucked her from her chair without warning, lifting her easily into his arms. “Hey!” she squeaked, but her giggle betrayed her delight as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
They carried her toward the elevator, ignoring the knowing smirks and murmurs from behind.
As the doors slid shut, Rune and Kamon leaned close, their words a low growl of promise.
They told her exactly what they intended to do to her tonight—every wicked, worshipful detail.
Klarissa’s cheeks flushed, her eyes shining as she whispered her agreement.
Both men told her they loved her, voices raw with honesty. Kamon added a rough, “Thank you for giving us another chance,” while Rune pressed a kiss to her temple.
As the elevator descended, Rune’s thoughts turned inward.
Their bond was still fractured, pieces broken by betrayal and loss.
But tonight, with Klarissa held between them, his determination solidified like iron.
They would find a way to mend it, no matter the cost, and they would not lose her again.
****
Chicago’s skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite, the city thrumming with life far below.
Caruso stood with a glass of bourbon in his hand, savoring the smoky bite as though it were victory itself.
His companion remained in shadow, only the gleam of his cufflinks catching the dim light.
“This is all I can do,” the man said, voice clipped with impatience. A human, but not just any—an alliance member, one of the few embedded deep in the Shifter Council. The traitor leaned forward, eyes sharp with ambition. “Tomorrow the city is yours. Everything is set.”
Caruso swirled the bourbon, a smile curving his lips.
He had bled, planned, orchestrated for years.
And now, Chicago would fall like the opening chord of a symphony.
“Good,” he murmured. “They believe they’re ready.
They aren’t. They think they know the battlefield, but I am the maestro here.
I chose the stage, and they will dance to my tune. ”
The traitor shifted uneasily, perhaps realizing too late the depth of the devil’s bargain he had struck. “Do not fail me, Caruso. Prestige and power—that is all I ask in return.”
Caruso turned, his smile widening as he studied the city lights. “Tomorrow, war comes to Chicago as promised. And when it does, no one—not the Pride, not the ESE—will see it coming.”
The glass lifted in a silent toast. “To tomorrow. To ridding the world of these abominations.”