Page 12 of Howl For A Kiss
Elena lifted her chin, channeling every ounce of authority she'd earned over three years of leadership. "My new second-in-command. Temporarily."
The stunned silence that followed her response spoke volumes. Several of her rebel fighters exchanged incredulous glances while others simply stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.
"Elena," Daniel said slowly, "you've known this man for all of—what, a few hours?"
"It's my call," she replied firmly, though her wolf practically purred with satisfaction at claiming Damon so publicly. "And I won't be questioned about it any further."
But secretly, she knew it was strange that she would trust Damon so quickly. Everything logical screamed that this was reckless, yet something deeper—some instinct her newly awakened wolf insisted was important—recognized him as safe. More than safe. Essential.
Damon stepped slightly closer to her, his presence solid and reassuring at her back. "This location isn't safe," he said, his authoritative tone brooking no argument. "You need to relocate immediately."
"We can't just relocate right now in the middle of winter," Elena protested, though she knew Damon was right. "Where are we supposed to go on such short notice?"
"Partner up with another rebel base nearby," Damon insisted, his eyes scanning the damaged perimeter with tactical precision. "There has to be one close."
Elena's chest tightened as she looked around the warehouse that had been her home for three years. Every corner held memories of Tyler—planning missions in her small office, sharing meals in the communal area, and late-night strategysessions that had shaped their rebel group into something formidable.
She'd built this place from nothing with Tyler's help, transforming an abandoned industrial building into a functioning rebel stronghold. The thought of abandoning it felt like losing another piece of him.
But Damon was right. The location was compromised.
"Fine," she said, pulling out her satellite phone with steady hands. "There's a base about twenty miles northeast. I'll make the call."
The phone rang once before a gruff voice answered. "Cade here."
"Cade, it's Elena Walsh. My base was ambushed this afternoon—we need sanctuary."
"Shit, Elena. How many casualties?"
"Six fighters down, plus massive property damage. I've got fifteen fighters including myself and my new second-in-command who need shelter."
"New second?" Cade's voice sharpened with interest, but he didn't press. "Doesn't matter. We just expanded our facilities last month. Can accommodate you easily. How soon can you get here?"
"Within four hours. I need to pack critical items first."
"I'll start preparing space. Be safe—word is Council operatives are crawling all over the territory."
Elena ended the call and turned to find Damon studying her with an unreadable expression. Something in his green eyes suggested he heard every word of her conversation despite her attempts at privacy.
"Cade's expecting us," she announced to her gathered fighters. "Start packing essential gear only. We move in thirty minutes."
As her rebels dispersed to follow orders, Elena headed toward her small office with Damon close behind. The intimate space felt even smaller with his large frame filling the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly spanning the width of the entrance.
"Three years," she said quietly, beginning to empty desk drawers with mechanical efficiency. "Tyler and I built this place from scratch three years ago."
Damon moved to help her without being asked, his large hands carefully packing her tactical gear into military-grade duffel bags. "It's never easy leaving home behind."
Elena's throat tightened as she placed Tyler's favorite coffee mug—one he'd insisted on keeping despite the chip in the handle—into protective wrapping. Her whole life for the past three years was being reduced to a few bags.
The magnitude of change that had occurred in just three days hit her like a tidal wave. Tyler's death. Her beloved rebel base damaged and compromised. Eight good fighters gone. The earth-shattering revelation that she was a hybrid, not a full shifter like her father had led her to believe. Appointing this mysterious yet dangerously alluring man as her second-in-command despite knowing him for mere hours.
Her entire world had been flipped upside down.
Yet despite all the chaos and storm of emotions churning through her mind, Elena found herself stealing glances at Damon as he efficiently helped pack her belongings. The way he handled her weapons with obvious familiarity, the careful attention he paid to protecting her more delicate items, and the respectful distance he maintained while still being thoroughly helpful.
An odd sense of trust was beginning to form between them—fragile but undeniable.
SIX
