Page 1 of Howl For A Kiss
ONE
ELENA
Snow fell in thick curtains across the High Council's headquarters and muffled Elena's footsteps as she crouched at the forest edge. The imposing stone building loomed against the November sky, its windows glowing like predatory eyes. Her breath formed crystalline clouds in the frigid air as she surveyed their target through night-vision binoculars.
"Maintenance entrance is clear," she whispered, adjusting the tactical gear strapped across her chest. "Tyler, Maggie, you're with me. First entry in thirty seconds."
Tyler shifted beside her, his blonde hair darkened with melted snow. "Just like old times. Except with more magical traps."
"Your optimism is infectious," Elena muttered, checking the silencer on her pistol. The familiar weight of her hunting knife pressed against her hip, a comfort she'd relied on since childhood. Her father's training echoed in her mind—move like shadow, strike like lightning.
Maggie crouched on Elena's other side, her healer's satchel bulging with ward-breaking supplies. "The protective barrierswill take me three minutes to dismantle. Maybe four if they've upgraded the enchantments."
"We don't have four minutes." Elena's gold-ringed pupils dilated as adrenaline surged through her system. Something primal stirred beneath her skin, an awareness she'd been experiencing more frequently these past few days. She pushed the sensation down, focusing on the mission. "Our intel says guard rotation happens every fifteen minutes. That puts us at twelve minutes maximum before discovery."
"No pressure." Tyler grinned, but his blue eyes held lethal focus.
Elena raised her hand, her fingers splayed. Five. Four. Three. Two.
They sprinted across the open ground, their boots finding purchase on the icy snow. Elena's body moved with fluid precision, each movement calculated for maximum efficiency and minimal sound. The maintenance door materialized from the shadows—a nondescript steel barrier that promised access to the Council's secrets.
Tyler produced lock-picking tools from his vest. "Thirty seconds," he breathed, his fingers working the mechanism with surgical precision.
Elena pressed her back to the wall, scanning the perimeter.
The lock soon clicked open under Tyler's fingers.
They slipped inside quickly, descending into maintenance tunnels that smelled of damp concrete and electrical systems. Elena's flashlight beam cut through absolute darkness, illuminating pipes and ventilation ducts. Her mental map, memorized from her reconnaissance, guided them through the labyrinthine passages.
"Left here," she directed, her voice barely audible.
The tunnels seemed to stretch endlessly, each turn bringing them deeper into the Council's domain. Elena's skin prickled with unease.
"Archives access is fifty meters ahead," Tyler informed them.
They reached a vertical shaft leading upward. Elena tested the ladder rungs, finding them solid despite their age. "I go first. Maggie, you're second. Tyler covers us."
Elena climbed up the metal ladder rungs, her muscles tensing with nervous anticipation. At the top, a reinforced door blocked their path to the archives room. Beyond that door lay the ancient records that could expose the High Council's corruption—evidence of their experiments, their manipulation of ancient bloodlines, and their systematic oppression of their shifter world.
She pressed her ear to the door, listening. Two heartbeats. Two guards, just as predicted.
"Guards confirmed," she whispered down to her team. "Maggie, you're up."
The petite rebel healer ascended quickly. She immediately pressed her palms against the door's surface and closed her eyes in concentration. Magic crackled in the air—a blue-white energy that made Elena's skin tingle with strange resonance.
"The protective ward structure is complex," Maggie murmured. "Multiple layers, blood-locked."
"Can you break it?"
"Give me ninety seconds."
Elena nodded, then caught Tyler's eye as he joined them on the small platform. They communicated through hand signals—a language forged through years of partnership. Tyler would take the guard on the right. Elena would handle the left. Silent takedowns only.
Maggie's magic intensified, weaving through the protective ward's structure like luminous threads. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool air.
Elena's pulse thundered in her ears. The mission balanced on this moment—success meant evidence to rally the rebellion against the High Council. Failure meant death.
"Almost there," Maggie breathed.
