Page 5 of Howl For A Kiss
They reached a door marked with tactical symbols Damon recognized from his military training. Maggie knocked twice, paused, then knocked once more—clearly a predetermined signal.
"Enter," came a voice from within, sharp with authority and exhaustion.
Elena Walsh sat behind a desk that looked like a war zone—maps covered in red markings, weapons disassembled for maintenance, and scattered intelligence reports creating organized chaos. When she looked up, Damon's world shifted on its axis.
She was beautiful in the way wildfire was beautiful—dangerous, untamed, and impossible to ignore. Blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, framing a face that belonged in classical sculptures, while those unusual light blue eyes with their gold rings held depths that spoke of loss and determination in equal measure. A burn scar across her left collarbone, visible beneath her tactical vest, only added to her fierce appeal.
"Logan Cross," she said, rising with predatory grace. "Your reputation precedes you."
"As does yours," Logan replied, extending his hand for a firm handshake. "This is Zoe Raymond, my mate and partner in all the chaos we seem to attract."
Zoe stepped forward with characteristic warmth. "Elena, I'm sorry for your loss. Tyler's sacrifice won't be forgotten."
Something flickered across Elena's features—pain quickly buried beneath determination. "He died protecting something that could change everything. That has to matter."
"It does," Damon said, stepping forward before he could second-guess the impulse. "I'm Damon Gray. Silvercrest rebel."
The moment their hands touched, electricity shot through his nervous system like lightning striking a copper conductor. The mate bond roared to life with such intensity that his wolf howled recognition deep within his chest. Every cell in his body suddenly understood its purpose—to protect, cherish, and claim this extraordinary woman.
His green eyes widened involuntarily as the bond settled into place with devastating finality. Fifteen years of careful emotional control crumbled in an instant, leaving him raw and exposed in ways that terrified him.
Elena's brow furrowed as she studied his face, clearly sensing something had shifted between them. "Nice to meet you... I'm Elena," she said, her voice carrying hesitation rather than recognition.
Damon's analytical mind immediately cataloged the anomaly. As a full wolf shifter, Elena should have felt the mate bond as powerfully as he did. Her muted reaction suggested something was blocking her natural shifter instincts—but what?
Zoe's hazel eyes had sharpened with interest, darting between Damon and Elena with the perceptiveness that made her such a valuable asset. She'd clearly noticed the tension crackling between them like a live wire.
"Well," Zoe said, her voice deliberately light as she broke the charged silence, "shall we examine those ancient records? I'm particularly curious about the experimentation documentation you recovered."
Elena nodded, moving to a reinforced safe with practiced efficiency. Her movements held the fluid grace of someone comfortable with violence, and Damon found himself memorizing every detail—the way her tactical vest emphasized her athletic curves, how her blonde hair seemed to shimmer in the warehouse lighting, and the determined set of her jaw that spoke of unbreakable will.
She withdrew a bound volume that looked ancient beyond measure, its pages yellowed with age and secrets. As she placed it on the desk, Zoe leaned forward with scholarly fascination.
"This is incredible," Zoe breathed, her fingers hovering reverently over the cover. "The binding suggests pre-Severance craftsmanship. If this contains what I think it does?—"
The warehouse's alarm system erupted in a cacophony of warning bells that sent adrenaline spiking through Damon's veins. Red emergency lighting bathed everything in hellish illumination as Maggie's voice crackled through the intercom.
"Multiple hostiles breaching perimeter! Council operatives, armed and moving fast!"
Chaos erupted as the warehouse transformed into a battlefield. The reinforced windows exploded inward in showers of glass and smoke grenades, disgorging black-clad figures who moved with military precision. Human hunters—Council operatives trained specifically to kill wolf shifters.
Logan's response was instantaneous and lethal. His hunting knife appeared in his hand like magic, finding the throat of the nearest hunter before the man could raise his weapon. Zoe moved with fluid grace, her tactical training evident as she acquired the ancient record book and secured it against her chest.
"We need to move!" Logan shouted over the gunfire, his green eyes already calculating escape routes. "Too many hostiles for a prolonged engagement!"
Elena had her sidearm drawn, putting precise rounds into advancing hunters with the cool efficiency of someone who'd learned to kill young. But Damon's enhanced hearing caught radio chatter that made his blood run cold.
"Target acquired—blonde female, blue eyes. Priority capture. Use containment rounds."
They weren't here to kill Elena. They were here to take her alive.
His wolf surged against his control, every protective instinct screaming at him to eliminate the threats to his mate. But fifteen years of tactical training overrode primal impulse—they were outnumbered and outgunned.
"Elena," Damon said, his deep voice carrying authority that made her blue-gold eyes snap to his. "We're compromised. They want you alive, which means this is a trap with backup incoming."
"I'm not abandoning my base," she replied with a stubborn determination that would have been admirable if it wasn't about to get her captured.
"Your base is being destroyed," Damon said bluntly, catching her arm as another wave of hunters poured through the breached entrance. "Dead rebels serve no cause."
