Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Kayden
I sat in the top-floor office of Blackwood Group, my fingers drumming an irregular rhythm against the armrest.
Baltimore's night skyline blazed outside the window, but I saw none of it. All I could hear, playing on loop in my head, was that small voice—
"Mommy?"
Just that. One word.
The kid had peeked out from behind the hospital room door, dark curls a mess, face pale, eyes...
Fuck. The same silver as mine.
In that instant, my wolf nearly tore through every restraint I had. It roared in the depths of my soul, claws scraping frantically, desperate to lunge forward, gather that pup in my arms, lick him, protect him, tell him—
I'm your father.
But Layla was faster.
Like a mother wolf guarding her young, she swept the child into her arms, shielding him with her body, baring her fangs at me.
In that moment, looking into her eyes, I saw no trace of love. Only fear, rage, hostility, and a desperate wariness.
As if I were some monster who might hurt her child any second.
Our child.
I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath.
She was actually afraid I'd harm our son.
The realization was like a fine needle, slowly and precisely piercing the softest part of my heart, then twisting. The pain wasn't sharp—not like when she first pushed me away, not consuming—but constant, dull, maddening, forcing me to face a possibility I'd apparently never considered—
Layla Gray didn't love me anymore. She didn't love me anymore.
"Alpha." Evan knocked and entered, carrying a tablet and a manila folder. His steps were quick, breathing slightly rushed—he'd clearly jogged here.
"Border report."
I slowly opened my eyes, all personal emotions instantly suppressed, sinking like stones into deep water.
An Alpha's duty always came first. That was the rule I had to follow.
But acknowledging the fact that Layla no longer loved me had already drained all my strength. I didn't speak, just extended my hand, signaling him to pass the tablet.
My gaze swept across the real-time battle map on screen. Blue markers representing Silver Moon Pack warriors, red for invaders, plus terrain, timeline, casualty statistics... all the information spread before me like an unfinished chess game.
"Speak." My voice was calm.
"Unknown forces launched their fourteenth attack on Silver Moon Pack's eastern border two hours and thirteen minutes ago.
" Evan's voice held suppressed excitement.
"Seven wolves, entering through invasion route three.
But exactly as you predicted three days ago, our warriors were already lying in wait. "
I zoomed in on the map, examining the area marked "Route Three."
A dense pine forest, complex terrain, three branching paths—perfect for small-scale raids. In the past thirteen attacks, the enemy had never chosen this location. Precisely because they'd never chosen it, I knew they eventually would.
"Status." My finger slid across the screen, pulling up detailed data.
"Zero casualties on our side, two minor injuries." Evan paused, voice growing more animated. "All seven enemies killed. This is the first time in fourteen attacks we've completely suppressed them."
Zero casualties.
The corner of my mouth lifted slightly, but quickly flattened. I looked up at Evan. "No survivors?"
Evan's expression grew grave. "We captured two initially, but while being escorted back to camp, they committed suicide."
"Suicide," I repeated the word, sensing something unusual.
"Yes," Evan said. "After being subdued, those two wolves were eerily calm, didn't even struggle. Then suddenly, like they'd received some signal, they simultaneously bit through their own tongues."
"No time to stop them?"
"None at all." Evan shook his head. "They moved too fast, too decisively, as if..."
"As if they'd prepared for it long ago." I finished for him.
Silence filled the office for several seconds.
I stood and walked to the massive map of Silver Moon Pack territory hanging on the wall. Hand-drawn, marking every river, every forest, every outpost location. My finger landed on the eastern border, gently tracing the pine forest area.
"Seven men, Route Three," I murmured, more to myself. "Biting through their tongues, refusing capture..."
"Alpha?" Evan wasn't sure what I was thinking.
"They're protecting secrets." I turned to face him. "Someone trained them, told them to kill themselves immediately if captured."
"You mean... these wolves have someone organizing them?"
"Not just organizing them. These wolves must be rogues." I returned to the desk, pulling up data comparisons from the past thirteen attacks.
"Look here." I turned the screen toward Evan.
"First attack: five men, western border, 3 AM."
"Second: six men, northern border, 2:40 AM."
"Third: four men, southwest border, 3:15 AM..."
Evan stared at the data for several seconds. "They always choose pre-dawn hours, keep numbers between four and seven..."
"And never stay to fight." I continued. "The moment they encounter strong resistance, immediate retreat."
"Like they're testing us." Evan sucked in a breath.
"And training." I stood again, walking back to the map. My finger moved slowly across it, from the western border to the north, the southwest, and the east.
"See the pattern." I pointed at the map. "First attack west, we deploy heavy forces to defend the west. Second attack north, we shift troops north. Third, fourth... every time we're reacting."
I turned to face Evan.
"They're observing our response speed, our troop deployment, our tactical habits... all this intelligence is preparation for something bigger."
The office fell silent again. Evan stared hard at the map, fine sweat beading on his forehead.
I understood his tension.
An enemy who could organize and train rogue wolves, convince them to die to keep secrets...
This wasn't an ordinary threat.
"But what they don't know is." I sat back down, voice returning to that reassuring calm. "I'm watching them too."
I pulled up another data set.
"Their numbers each attack, retreat routes, places... seemingly random, but there's a pattern."
"Like?"
"Like they never choose the area between outposts nine and eleven." I zoomed in on that location. "In the past fourteen attacks, no matter where our defensive focus was, they've avoided this spot."
Evan studied the area carefully. "But that's just an ordinary forest..."
"On the surface." I cut him off. "But dig down thirty meters, there's an abandoned mine shaft leading straight into Silver Moon Pack's heartland."
Evan's eyes widened instantly.
"They deliberately avoid it, which proves that's the real target." I leaned back in my chair, feeling a flicker of pleasure at how the tables had turned after seven years of cat and mouse.
"Redeploy immediately." I issued orders with unhurried authority. "Pull heavy forces from outposts five and seven, leave only regular patrols."
"But Alpha, those two outposts have been our key defensive positions for the last three attacks..."
"Exactly." I looked at him. "They've already mapped our defensive strength there. Next time, they won't choose a frontal assault."
I stood and walked to the map, finger pointing between outposts nine and eleven.
"Deploy main forces here. Hidden posts every fifty meters, two elite warrior teams at the abandoned mine entrance, twenty-four-hour surveillance."
"Also." I turned. "Bring in Damon."
"Damon?" Evan paused.
Damon was Silver Moon Pack's best tracker, could read everything about invaders from a broken branch, a shallow footprint.
"Have him analyze the traces those seven wolves left tonight," I said. "I want to know where they came from, what training they received, who organized them."
"And." I paused. "Those two suicide corpses, send them for detailed examination. I want to know if they took any drugs before biting their tongues, whether they were under some mental control, or just loyal."
Evan rapidly took notes on the tablet, fingers tapping the screen faster and faster.
"Understood, Alpha. Any other orders?"
"I won't be returning to the territory for the next week."
Evan's hand froze.
"A week?" He lowered his voice. "Alpha, if there's an emergency..."
"That's why I need you as my proxy." I clapped his shoulder. "Report all tactical decisions to me through encrypted communications. I'll give instructions within thirty minutes."
Evan was silent for a few seconds, then bowed deeply. "Yes, Alpha."
He was too smart to ask why I was staying in Baltimore this long.
Or rather, he'd already guessed the reason.
"Is that all for the border report?" I asked.
"Yes, Alpha. The border situation is stable, warrior morale is high." Evan hesitated. "Everyone's saying this was the most brilliant ambush under your command."
I didn't respond to the flattery. Just waved my hand, signaling him to continue. Evan understood, opening the manila folder.
"This is what you asked me to investigate."
My heartbeat suddenly accelerated, fingers trembling slightly beyond my control.
The coldness I'd had while analyzing battle conditions, that sense of strategic mastery—it all vanished. In its place came an almost adolescent nervousness.
As if I weren't an Alpha controlling a business empire and a wolf pack.
But an ordinary man waiting for news of the woman he loved.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, and reached for the file.
"Ella Ross, 32, appeared suddenly in Victoria seven years ago. Funded by jewelry magnate Robert Ross, now a renowned jewelry designer. Single, no criminal record, clean social circle, main contacts include assistant Anna Green and some business partners..."
My gaze fell on her work photo.
Layla wore a white blouse, hair pinned in an elegant bun, head bowed, examining a jewelry design, profile gentle and focused.
Blue eyes. For the first time, I found blue so glaring, representing how ruthlessly she'd severed our past.