Page 49 of Rebel for Claws
"This isn't just a hideout," Alaric growled, his newly enhanced senses picking up details she couldn't see. "It's a full operational base. There are at least fifty operatives down there, maybe more inside the buildings."
As if summoned by their words, a familiar figure emerged from the main entrance. Even at this distance, Thorne's commanding presence was unmistakable—tall, broad-shouldered, and his distinctive silver-streaked hair catching the sunlight. In his hands, he carried a familiar tactical bag.
Their evidence.
"Son of a bitch has our scrolls on him right now," Vivian snarled, her hand instinctively moving toward her blades. Everyinstinct screamed at her to charge down the mountainside and tear the bag from his treacherous hands.
"Wait." Alaric's voice carried the unmistakable tone of an Alpha command, stopping her before she could take a step. "We need backup for this. There are too many of them."
"Alaric—"
"No." His grey eyes had turned gold, power radiating from him in waves that made her wolf submit despite her frustration. "I'm not losing you to a suicide mission. We radio Logan and wait for the backup to get into position."
Vivian's jaw clenched, but she recognized the wisdom in his words even as every fiber of her being demanded immediate action. "Fine. But the moment our backup arrives, that bastard is mine."
TWENTY-TWO
ALARIC
The sound of snow crunching under tactical boots announced the arrival of their backup team. Alaric's enhanced senses had tracked their approach from over a mile away—Logan's steady heartbeat, Kieran's determined stride, and the controlled breathing of the other five seasoned fighters moving through the hostile territory.
Logan emerged first from the treeline, his auburn hair dusted with snow and his green eyes immediately scanning the tactical situation below. Behind him came the others in perfect formation: Damon and Elena moving like synchronized shadows, Kieran's commanding presence unmistakable even in full winter gear, Malcolm's charm replaced by cold focus, Maya's copper hair tucked beneath her hood, and Zoe bringing up the rear with weapons gleaming at her hip.
"Status?" Logan's voice was a whisper as he dropped into position beside Alaric's concealed vantage point.
"Fifty-plus operatives visible, unknown numbers inside the buildings," Alaric reported, his newly enhanced vision picking up details that would have been impossible to see before. "Specialized anti-magical weapons in those crates. Thorne's gotour evidence bag and he's standing by that black vehicle—looks like he's preparing to leave."
Vivian's jaw tightened as she adjusted her tactical harness, her twin blades catching the winter sunlight. "We don't have time for a prolonged assault. If he gets in that vehicle..."
"Then we go with a quick grab-and-go," Kieran said, his fierce authority cutting through the tension. "Minimal engagement, maximum speed."
Damon studied the layout through his binoculars, his analytical mind already calculating trajectories and escape routes. "The vehicle's position gives us one advantage—it's isolated from the main cluster of operatives. If we can get close enough..."
"Vivian and I will infiltrate," Alaric decided, his protective instincts warring with tactical necessity. Every fiber of his being screamed against putting his mate in danger, but her supernatural agility and his enhanced abilities made them the logical choice. "The rest of you maintain overwatch and be ready to provide covering fire."
Elena checked her weapons with practiced efficiency. "What if it's a trap? Thorne's too smart to expose himself like this."
The question hung in the frigid air like a death omen, but Vivian was already moving, her eyes blazing with determination. "Then we spring it on our terms."
Stubborn, brilliant, dangerous woman.Pride and terror fought for dominance within Alaric.
They descended through the snow-laden forest with supernatural stealth, Alaric's enhanced senses mapping every heartbeat in the compound while Vivian moved with the fluid grace of a predator born for this moment. The winter air carried the metallic scent of weapons and the acrid smell of human fear—the operatives knew something was coming.
Fifty yards from the perimeter, Alaric held up a closed fist. Through the tactical earpiece, Logan's voice crackled: "Seven guards between you and the target. Vehicle engine's running."
He's definitely planning to leave.Alaric's wolf prowled beneath his skin, demanding action, demanding blood for the months of captivity and the years of manipulation.
Vivian's hand found his shoulder, her touch grounding him even as battle readiness coursed through their shared bond. "Together," she whispered.
They moved as one entity, shadows against snow, death incarnate in tactical gear. Alaric's enhanced strength made silent takedowns effortless while Vivian's supernatural speed left unconscious guards in their wake. Every step brought them closer to Thorne, and closer to the evidence that could end this war.
Twenty feet from the vehicle, Vivian's fingers were almost close enough to touch the tactical bag when Thorne's voice cut through the winter air like a blade.
"Now!"
How the hell—Alaric's thought shattered as tactical lights blazed to life around the compound, turning their cover into a killing field. Hidden positions revealed themselves as fifty weapons trained on their location.
He knew. The bastard knew we were coming.
