Aaron
A half empty glass of whiskey sits at the edge of my desk as I gaze blankly at the view before me– the dark clouds and glittering lights that create a peripheral view of the city's skyline below.The view is static, unchanging, but my mind isn't.
The TV hums in the background, still on. Not because I care to listen-I tuned out the moment I heard what I'd been waiting for.
Night is when things happen. When people get bold. That's why I'm here, sleeves rolled up, a wary expression carved into my face, sitting in the CEO office of Cyber Blue like a king waiting for bad news.
I glance at my phone screen; 7:30, very few people are still around and I'm okay with that. It's the best time to my Beta, Lucas face to face.
The door clicks open. I don't turn. Instead, I reach for my whiskey, let the warmth of it burn its way down my throat . The slight sweetness masks the bitter aftertaste, but only for a second.
Lucas strides in-long, deliberate steps-before dropping into the seat across from me. He's the only one who walks in here like that, despite my repeated warnings. His crew cut is longer than usual, a sign he's been too preoccupied to bother with a trim.
When I finally glance up at , his usual polka faced expression is replaced by a frown that makes his square face appear more rigid.
"Did you see it on the news?" He slumps back, dark eyes tracking mine before he shuts them for a beat, as if trying to reset.
I take another slow sip before setting my glass down with deliberate precision.
"It's everywhere. We can't call this coincidence anymore." I exhale, running my tongue along the edge of my teeth before licking my lower lip.
The first disappearance-a werewolf bank manager, living outside the Pack-was written off as a random kidnapping. I didn't give a damn at first. Then came the second.
Same damn pattern-masked men hitting them at home, leaving their apartments torn apart. That was two months ago. Now? Seven victims, all gone. All with one thing in common.
A LycoSeal– a werewolf neutralizer choker, burned into their necks.
Lucas slides a brown folder across the desk. "Another one. Three hours ago. Laila Stephens, pediatrician."
I flip through it, expecting the same story. Late thirties. Clean record. Except now, they're getting bold. Her house was on the outskirts of our territory-four kilometers out but still close enough to make a statement.
I rub my pen between my fingers, jaw tightening. I've already spent the last few hours going over confidential reports, stewing in quiet rage.
Someone is selling us out. And whoever it is, they're smart. Too damn smart.
According to my Intel team, there's a growing suspicion that these victims aren't just disappearing. They're being used for something-experiments, lab rats, a certain drug, apparently a cure for cancer.
I tighten my grip on the pen.
I've never been the type to rule with fear, but I'm at my wit's end. Whoever's behind this operation knows exactly what they're doing.
Ordering pack members to stay within our borders would only send the wrong message-fear, weakness. That's the last thing I need. Panic spreads faster than fire, and once it starts, it's impossible to contain.
The safest place for my people is within the pack, inside territory those bastard humans wouldn't dare trespass. But it's only a matter of time before they get bolder. And even my power has limits-I can't follow them to their offices outside the pack's reach.
Lucas leans forward, elbows on his knees. "It's an inside job."
I don't react. Just swirl my drink, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light. Silence stretches between us, heavier than anger.
"If it's an inside job, it's someone who thinks they're untouchable," I say quietly.
Lucas nods. "There's a hidden account funneling money from Cyber Blue's corporate funds. Whoever they are, they've been careful. We don't have a name yet."
I exhale my nose flaring as I set my glass down with a soft clink. "How much?"
"Six figures. And growing. Someone's making good money selling us out." Lucas clicks his tongue, facing me with a leveled gaze.
I lean back, steepling my fingers. "That means it's not just some low-level traitor. It's someone with access. Someone high up." I chuckle humorlessly, tapping my left foot to a tuneless rhythm.
Lucas shifts slightly. "Your assistant? The finance manager? A bodyguard? Could be anyone."
A slow smirk tugs at the corner of my lips, humorless. "Then we let them think they're winning."
Lucas frowns. "What's the play?"
"Surveillance. Restricted access. Silent observation. No one makes a move until we're sure."
His jaw tightens before he nods. "Understood. I'll set it up."
I take another slow sip of whiskey. "Lucas."
He stops.
"If they think they can sell us out and walk away, they're dead wrong. Make sure none of this gets to my mother."
He's halfway to the door when I speak again.
"And Lucas. My mother doesn't hear about this."
He hesitates. "Aaron–"
"No." My tone is final. I don't have to explain. He already knows why.
She's lived through enough. She lost her mother in the chaos when they were hunting down the witches of Salem, cut down like an animal while she barely escaped with her life. She was just a kid then, barely old enough to understand but she never made peace with humans.
She's stronger than most, a vampire who's seen centuries pass, but this? More disappearances, more abductions, more blood? It would take her back to a place she barely crawled out of.
I won't let her go through that again.
The air in the room turns heavy. Lucas gives a single nod before standing. As the door clicks shut behind him, I turn back to the city skyline, eyes narrowed.
Whoever they are... they're already living on borrowed time.