Chapter 24 Wolf
Wolf
Nora finally drifted back into sleep—soft, warm, tucked against my chest.
I stayed awake.
I always stayed awake after a nightmare.
Especially when it wasn’t mine.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the hallway light filtering under the door. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Trigger’s boots weren’t pacing. Havoc wasn’t shifting in his chair. Even Saint’s low murmurs into his comm were absent.
Silence like that doesn’t happen in a building full of soldiers.
It happens when everyone is listening.
My instincts prickled.
Something was wrong.
Very slowly, carefully, I eased my arm from under Nora and slipped out of bed. She murmured at the loss of warmth but didn’t wake.
I pulled on my shirt and stepped to the window.
The street below was dark.
Still.
Empty.
But the hair on the back of my neck rose like static.
Movement.
Not seen—
felt.
I narrowed my eyes and scanned the shadows near the tavern entrance. Nothing visible. But the wrongness hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot.
Trigger’s voice buzzed softly through my comm:
“Wolf… you awake?”
I pressed the button. “Yeah.”
“You feel that too?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I murmured.
Saint chimed in, voice low and crisp: “Motion alert tripped on the southwest corner camera. Something moved and then vanished.”
“Human or animal?” Havoc asked.
Saint hesitated. “Humanoid height. Too slow for a stray dog. Too smooth for drunk tourist.”
Trigger whispered, calmer now in Ranger mode: “Wolf, you want eyes outside?”
I leaned closer to the window.
There—
for a split second—
a flicker of shape near the alley’s edge.
Tall.
Still.
Watching upward.
Right at the apartment windows.
My pulse hardened.
“Trigger, hold position inside,” I said. “Havoc, you’re with him. Saint, get me the back stairwell view.”
Nora stirred behind me. “Wolf…?”
I turned immediately. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, anxiety coloring her voice.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” I said softly. “Go back to sleep.”
Her brows pinched. “That’s not comforting.”
I walked to her, kneeled beside the bed, and brushed my fingers along her arm. “I’ll handle it. Stay here.”
Her hand caught mine. “Wolf—”
“I promise,” I murmured, squeezing her fingers, “you’re safe.”
I stood, grabbed my sidearm from the dresser, and slipped into the hallway.
Saint met me there, tablet in hand.
“This angle is bad,” he said quietly, tapping the southwest feed. “Whatever it was… it’s not there anymore.”
Trigger approached, now all steel instead of jokes. “Should we sweep outside?”
“No,” I said. “Not yet.”
The guys exchanged glances—they knew exactly why.
If the stalker wanted us to come outside, he might be baiting us.
From the window at the end of the hall, I scanned the alley again. Darkness. A few trash bins. A streetlamp flickering.
Havoc growled under his breath. “He’s out there.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He is.”
Trigger frowned. “You see him?”
“No,” I said. “But he sees us.”
Saint checked another angle. “There—movement along the wooden fence.”
A faint blur of shadow slid past the grainy footage. One frame. Just one.
But it was enough.
Trigger whispered, “He’s clocking the building.”
“Mapping it,” Havoc said.
“Studying entry points,” Saint added.
“And counting people,” I finished.
A beat of silence fell between us, heavy and grim.
Trigger finally asked the question no one wanted to voice:
“You think he knows she’s up here?”
My jaw clenched. “I think he already suspected. That’s why he came up here, and left the button where we would see it.”
Saint exhaled slowly. “And now he’s confirming.”
I stared down at the street.
The sense of presence hadn’t faded. It had intensified—like the darkness was holding its breath with malicious intent.
“He’s not just watching anymore,” I said quietly. “He’s planning.”
Trigger’s voice hardened. “What’s our move?”
I looked back toward Nora’s closed door.
She lay inside, barely recovered from the nightmare that shook her awake.
And the stalker was outside, watching the windows that led to her.
My voice dropped to lethal calm.
“We fortify.
We double the security.
We lock this building down tight enough that not even air gets in without permission.”
Saint nodded.
Havoc cracked his knuckles.
Trigger stepped forward, posture all Ranger discipline now. “And you, Wolf?”
I turned back to the alley.
To the place where I’d seen a flicker of a human silhouette staring up at her window.
“He wants proximity,” I said. “He wants to feel close. That’s why he came.”
“And what do you want?” Trigger asked softly.
I checked the safety on my weapon.
“Distance,” I answered. “Between him and Nora.”
Then—
My voice dropped to something darker.
“And if he doesn’t back off… I’ll handle it.”
Saint didn’t smile.
Neither did Trigger.
Havoc simply nodded once.
Because they all understood:
For the first time, this wasn’t just a mission.
It was personal.