Page 14 of Furever Bound
The euphemistic language didn't disguise what sounded suspiciously like government or military involvement, and Maddox realized that contacting Elena might have exposed their entire community to exactly the kind of outside scrutiny the Council worked desperately to avoid and that she was claiming to protect.
"You need to leave," he said, his alpha authority finally overriding diplomatic restraint. "Now."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Elena smiled with the kind of calculated regret that suggested she'd been expecting this conversation. "My colleagues are quite insistent about proper documentation of this situation. Particularly regarding the human catalyst and her developing abilities."
The threat to Sera made his wolf rage against every instinct toward civilized discussion, and Ember's warning screechconfirmed that their unexpected visitor represented dangers that extended far beyond academic interference.
"If you think you can threaten her—" he began.
"I'm not threatening anyone," Elena interrupted with smooth academic calm. "I'm simply ensuring that proper authorities are aware of a situation that could have significant implications for supernatural community security."
As she settled in with obvious intention to stay despite his objections, Maddox realized that his attempt to protect Sera from Council politics had instead exposed her to forces that viewed her abilities as either asset to be acquired or threat to be neutralized.
11
SERA
The sharp knock on Sera's inn room door came just as she was reviewing the disturbing analytics from her latest social media posts. The Grimjaw content had exploded across platforms in ways that felt both gratifying and increasingly uncomfortable, with engagement numbers climbing alongside comments that suggested people were making serious plans to investigate Hollow Oak personally.
"Coming," she called, expecting Miriam with evening tea or perhaps Maddox with another cryptic warning about supernatural forces she still wasn't sure she believed in.
Instead, she opened the door to find an elegant woman with dark hair pulled into a severe chignon and the kind of expensive academic chic that screamed university prestige. Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass, and her evaluating gaze made Sera feel like a specimen under laboratory examination.
"You must be Sera Quinn," the woman said, extending a manicured hand with professional precision. "Dr. Elena Vasquez. I'm here to collaborate with Maddox on your fascinating research project."
"Collaborate?" Sera accepted the handshake while mentally cataloguing everything about this unexpected visitor that set off warning bells. "Maddox didn't mention expecting a colleague."
"Academic collaboration often develops quickly when interesting phenomena require specialized expertise," Elena replied, stepping into the room without invitation. "I hope you don't mind my directness, but I'm quite curious about your documentation methods."
The presumptuous entry into her personal space combined with Elena's calculating attention made Sera's instincts scream warnings about territory being invaded by someone with hidden agendas.
"Documentation methods?" she asked, closing the door while maintaining careful distance from her uninvited guest.
"Your social media approach to folklore preservation," Elena clarified, settling into the room's single chair with obvious intention to stay. "Maddox mentioned that you've developed quite innovative techniques for engaging modern audiences with traditional narratives."
The compliment felt like a trap, especially when Elena's tone suggested she found those innovative techniques more problematic than praiseworthy.
"I try to make cultural heritage accessible without exploiting it," Sera said carefully, noting how Elena's sharp gaze catalogued every detail of her living space.
"How admirable," Elena smiled with academic condescension that made Sera's teeth ache. "Though I imagine balancing accessibility with cultural sensitivity must be challenging for someone without formal training in folklore studies."
The subtle insult hit every insecurity Sera had developed about intellectual inadequacy, and she realized this woman hadcome armed with precisely the kind of academic superiority that could undermine her growing confidence.
"I have a communications degree and seven years of experience connecting people with meaningful content," she replied, lifting her chin with defensive pride. "That might not be formal folklore training, but it's relevant expertise."
"Communications," Elena repeated with the tone people used for discussing minor hobbies. "How interesting. I imagine that provides a very... practical perspective on storytelling."
"More practical than theoretical frameworks that keep knowledge locked away from the people who could benefit from it," Sera shot back, recognizing the intellectual gatekeeping she'd been fighting against for days.
"Academic rigor exists for important reasons," Elena said with patient explanation usually reserved for particularly slow undergraduates. "Some knowledge requires proper contextual understanding to be shared safely."
"Safely?" Sera latched onto the word with journalist instincts that sensed bigger stories hiding behind careful language. "That's an interesting way to describe folklore preservation."
Elena's pause suggested she'd revealed more than intended, and her recovery carried the smooth professionalism of someone accustomed to managing information leaks.
"Cultural appropriation concerns," she clarified quickly. "Academic ethics require careful consideration of how traditional knowledge gets translated for modern consumption."
The explanation felt rehearsed and insufficient, especially when Elena's knowledge about their research seemed unusually comprehensive for someone who'd supposedly just arrived.
