Page 59 of Broken Forced Mate
For the next hour, we document enemy positions, supply routes, and defensive preparations. My psychic abilities prove invaluable for identifying which areas are actually defended versus which just look that way—the emotional signatures of bored guards versus alert sentries tell a clear story.
“They have a weakness,” I report as we prepare to withdraw. “The eastern approach is minimally defended because they think the terrain makes it impassable.”
“Is it impassable?” Dora asks.
“For conventional forces, yes. But not for small teams with psychic guidance to navigate the emotional landscape of hidden threats.”
The return journey passes without major incident, though my abilities detect several close calls we avoid through careful route selection. The weight of what we discovered keeps everyone quiet during the trek back.
When we reach the compound, Wyn is waiting despite the late hour. The relief on his face when he sees me unharmed rushes through our bond so strongly that it makes me stumble.
But that relief is quickly replaced by professional concern when Ash begins her debriefing to the assembled leadership.
As she recounts everything we found and explains how I was able to contribute, I catch Wyn’s eye. The pride I see there, mixed with lingering worry, tells me this mission changed something fundamental between us.
My abilities proved crucial to the mission’s success. My insistence on participation likely saved lives by identifying the ambush before it could be sprung. But more importantly, I demonstrated that partnership works better than protection.
The mate bond carries a new understanding—not completion, but progress. We’ve taken another step toward the emotional connection that will unlock my full potential.
We’re going to need every advantage we can get for what’s coming.
Chapter 17 - Wyn
Watching Raegan debrief the council changes everything I thought I knew about my mate.
She stands at the head of the table, waving maps and photographs around. Gone is the student I’ve been trying to protect. In her place stands a woman who just prevented multiple casualties through pure competence.
“The eastern approach remains their weakest point,” she explains to the assembled leadership. “My readings confirm minimal emotional investment in that sector. They’re overconfident about the terrain.”
“How so?” Oren asks.
“They’ve positioned sentries there out of obligation, not genuine belief in the threat. Their emotional signatures show boredom, distraction. Classic signs of troops assigned to what they consider a non-priority position.”
“And you’re certain about these readings?” Dorian questions.
“As certain as I can be with current power levels.” Raegan’s honesty impresses me more than false bravado would have. “But the intelligence gathered through conventional means supports what I sensed psychically.”
For the next hour, I listen as pack leaders who dismissed her this morning treat her observations as tactical gospel. The change in their attitudes mirrors my own internal struggle—how do you reconcile years of protective instincts with the reality that the person you’re protecting doesn’t need protection?
When the briefing ends, Raegan approaches me with a stack of files under her arm.
“We need to talk,” she says.
“About what?”
“About the intelligence we gathered on their leadership structure.” She sets the files on my desk in the small office space we’ve been using for coordination. “There’s something you need to know about who we’re really fighting.”
I flip open the top folder and find surveillance photos of a man I don’t recognize—tall, broad-shouldered, with graying hair and the kind of cold eyes that speak to years of violence.
“Thane Mordaunt,” Raegan says before I can ask. “Alpha leader of the Thornridge pack. This entire operation is his brainchild.”
“How do we know that?”
“Because I saw him both inside the prisoner we interrogated and several of the guards we just dodged. I couldn’t get deep enough to pull specific plans, but I got enough to understand the command structure.” She pulls out another photo. “Mordaunt’s been planning this for years. All of it traces back to him.”
I hold the photos up and inspect them while she continues.
“He discovered the location of the Amanzite source through espionage long before we found it ourselves. He just couldn’t get to it quickly enough. Everything since then has been preparation for seizure and control.”
