Page 29 of Howl For A Kiss
By the time Elena emerged from her shower, Damon had prepared a feast that filled the small dining area with the rich scents of bacon, eggs, and fresh herbs. She looked absolutely stunning in her thermal black top and beige cargo pants that hugged her curves perfectly, and her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail that showcased the elegant line of her neck. Damon's pulse quickened as he imagined pressing his lips to that exposed skin.
Focus. You're supposed to be her tactical partner, not a lovesick fool.
"This smells incredible," Elena said as she took the seat beside him, her blue eyes bright with appreciation.
The thirteen rebels gathered around the table, and for a moment, the easy camaraderie reminded Damon of pack meals from his youth—before duty and responsibility had made him too isolated to enjoy simple pleasures like shared food and conversation.
"I have an announcement," Elena said once everyone had filled their plates. Her tone shifted into the authoritative cadence Damon was beginning to recognize as her leadership voice. "We're aborting the mission to the human operatives' hub tonight."
Several rebels looked up with surprise, and Daniel—her senior fighter—frowned. "Elena, you've worked hard the past day to plan that mission. The intel and attack plan are solid."
"The critical intel from Lena this morning changes everything," Elena replied firmly. "Tyler sacrificed his life for those ancient records, and now we finally have viable intelligence about the Council's corruption. That has to be our top priority."
Damon felt a surge of pride at her tactical reasoning. Even in the midst of emotional upheaval, she could still think strategically and prioritize the mission that would have the greatest impact.
"We're splitting into two teams," Elena continued. "Small stealth operations to investigate both potential suspects. Daniel, I want you to take Evan and reconnoiter Elder Isolde's estate. Damon and I will handle Elder Thorne."
Damon nodded his agreement, carefully keeping his expression neutral despite knowing Elder Thorne's estate better than he'd cared to admit. The number of times he'd been there for Council events and pack business as Beta would have to remain his secret for now.
"Stealth gives us the best advantage for intel gathering," Damon said, supporting Elena's decision. "We need more proof before we act."
"Exactly," Elena said, and the way she looked at him—like he truly understood her vision—made Damon's chest warm with something dangerously close to hope.
His mate was incredible. And she trusted him.
Now if he could just keep his carefully constructed cover intact long enough to prove himself worthy of that trust.
The late morning light filtered through the small window of Elena's makeshift office as Damon followed her inside, closing the door behind them with deliberate care. The cramped space felt even smaller with both of them in it, and he found himself hyperaware of every movement she made as she spread maps across the modest desk he'd assembled for her.
"Elder Thorne's estate," Elena said, her voice holding that note of controlled intensity that told Damon she was throwing herself into tactical planning to avoid processing the morning's revelations about the prophecy. Her finger traced the perimeter of the property on the detailed map. "If he's truly behind the genetic experiments, the proof will be in his private office."
Damon studied the map, his chest tightening with the familiar weight of deception as he recognized every detail of the estate he'd visited countless times in his official capacity as Beta. The irony was almost laughable—here he was, planning to break into the home of a man who'd shared dinner with Damon there just two months ago during a Council event.
"Going straight for his office might be problematic," he said carefully, keeping his voice neutral despite knowing exactly how problematic it would be. Thorne's office occupied the entire top floor of the three-story mansion, accessible only by a grand staircase that passed directly through the main hall whereguards maintained constant watch. "The layout of these older Council estates tends to be... defensive."
Elena's blue eyes sharpened with interest, and Damon felt that familiar flutter of pride at earning her attention even as guilt gnawed at his conscience.
"You've studied Council architecture?" she asked, and there was something in her tone—curiosity mixed with the faintest edge of suspicion—that made Damon's wolf restless.
Careful. She's too intelligent to accept vague explanations much longer.
"Like I mentioned before, my grandmother was a healer," he said, the partial truth tasting bitter on his tongue. "She was called to treat Council elders occasionally when I was younger. I accompanied her to Elder Thorne's estate once when I was about sixteen—he'd taken ill with some rare condition that required her specific expertise."
The lie came easier than it should have, built on the foundation of truth about his grandmother's healing abilities. She had treated Council elders, though never Thorne specifically, and Damon had indeed visited the estate—just not as a teenage boy trailing after his grandmother.
Elena leaned forward, her thermal black top pulling snug across her curves in a way that made Damon's pulse spike dangerously. "What do you remember about the security?"
Everything.The guard rotations, the patrol patterns, the blind spots in the surveillance system, and the fact that Thorne dismissed half his security detail after midnight because he believed his reputation and Council connections made him untouchable.
"We'll want to go in after midnight," Damon said, his voice roughened as Elena's proximity filled his senses with her sweet scent. "Estates like that typically reduce their guard presenceduring the small hours—too expensive to maintain full security when the occupants are sleeping."
"How do you know that?" Elena's question came sharp and immediate, her eyes searching his face with a burning intensity that made Damon feel like prey.
Because I've attended enough late-night Council briefings to know their security protocols by heart.
"Military training covers estate infiltration tactics," he said smoothly, though sweat beaded at his nape despite the cool air. "Logan drilled us on wealthy targets—how they think and how they defend themselves. The wealthy always assume their status protects them."
Elena nodded slowly, but Damon caught the way her gaze lingered on his face, cataloging micro-expressions with the same tactical precision she applied to mission planning. His mate was brilliant, and that brilliance was going to expose his deception sooner rather than later.
