Page 6 of Wanted By the Cartel

"Increase surveillance but maintain distance," I ordered, my mind already formulating plans. There were so many things to do. "I want to know everyone he talks to, everywhere he goes. But no one approaches him directly. He's spooked easily, and if he runs..." I let the threat hang in the air.

We wouldn't allow it to happen. We would stop him before he got too far.

"And Mae?" Viktor asked, referring to the tavern's owner.

There was her. What to do with her? Ah, I already knew the answer.

"Leave her. She's useful as she is." I had already looked into the old human woman. She had a history of helping supernatural refugees, but her assistance was always subtle, and non-intrusive. She was more valuable as an unwitting ally—for now, anyway.

I turned back to my great-great-grandmother's journal, scanning for more information. The pages spoke of the moon-blessed omega's abilities—healing, protection magic, and the power to manipulate lunar energy itself. But it was the passages about mate bonds that caught my attention:

"When a moon-blessed omega finds their true mate, their powers align and amplify each other. The potential of such aunion is beyond measure, but it must be entered willingly, with full acceptance on both sides. Force or coercion will destroy the very thing that makes them so precious..."

The warmth in my chest pulsed again, stronger this time. My wolf was restless, eager to claim what we both knew was ours. But this would require a delicate touch. Lyrian had spent years running, hiding his true nature. Breaking down those barriers would take time and patience.

I didn't like that. I didn't want to be patient right now.

"One more thing," Viktor said, pulling up a final document. "We found a pattern in the timing of his movements. He always leaves during the waxing moon, when his powers would be building toward their peak."

I checked the lunar calendar. "Three weeks until the next full moon."

"Yes, Alpha."

"Then we have three weeks to convince him to stay." I closed the journal, my decision made. "Have the teams ready. I want every possible exit route covered, but maintain discretion. He's not leaving Silverpine—we can't allow it."

The mate bond, still in its earliest stages, thrummed with approval. Soon, I would show Lyrian that he didn't need to run anymore, that his power didn't have to be a burden. We could become the biggest change in the shifter world in its entire history.

But first, I needed to gain his trust, to show him that the Nightshade Wolves could offer more than just protection. We could offer him a home, a purpose, and a mate who could match both his power and his nature. Plus, I could show him he could come clean with me.

He didn't have to keep hiding his true nature.

I touched the wolf tattoo on my arm, feeling the magic respond to my intentions and plans. Soon, Lyrian wouldunderstand that his long journey had led him exactly where he was meant to be—at my side, as my mate, combining our powers in ways the shifter world hadn't seen in centuries.

The hunt was on, but this time, the prey wasn't meant to be captured—he was meant to be courted, protected, and ultimately, loved.

Chapter 5

Lyrian

It started with shadows moving where they shouldn't be. I thought that I was becoming paranoid, but certain hints proved otherwise.

I noticed it first on my walk home from work three nights after Zoren's visit. A black SUV with tinted windows parked two blocks from my apartment, its presence too sleek and purposeful for this run-down neighborhood. The next night, it was there again, but in a different spot. Professional surveillance. Someone was watching me.

If I hadn't been on the run for so long, I wouldn't have noticed the extra pair of eyes on me.

My morning routine became an exercise in hypervigilance, which was different from what it usually was, but not too much so. I caught glimpses of well-dressed men with too-straight postures in my peripheral vision. Their attempts at blending in were good—if I hadn't spent years learning to spot followers, I might have missed them. But I knew what to look for, and they were everywhere. They couldn't miss a single moment in my life.

The mark behind my ear hadn't stopped burning since Zoren's visit, and now I understood why. It had been warning me. It was trying to tell me to run away.

Today, as I wiped down the bar's surface for the hundredth time, I watched a man in an expensive suit enter, order a single drink, and leave after fifteen minutes. Three hours later, a woman did the same thing. Their movements were too precise, their attention too masterfully divided between me and their surroundings. Nightshade wolves, no doubt about it. They wanted to know everything about me.

"You've got quite the fan club lately," Mae commented as she restocked the bourbon shelf. Her tone was casual, but her eyes held concern. Even she was beginning to notice something was wrong. "Important people asking about you."

My hands stilled on the rag. "What kind of people?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. How many questions had been asked about me? How much did they already know?

"The kind that carry themselves like they own the world," she replied. "The kind that makes my old bones ache with memories of other refugees I've helped." She paused, studying me. She was trying to figure out what to say next. "The kind that won't stop until they get what they want."

I swallowed hard. Mae knew more than she let on—she always had. "I should leave." The words tasted bitter on my tongue. Months of relative peace living here, the closest thing to a home I'd had in years, all about to disappear again.

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