32 Chapter 32


    32 Chapter 32


    Damien’s POV 1


    The border situation was spiraling out of control. Patrol reports were stacked on the hood of my jeep like poker cards after a bad hand, each one detailing another rogue attack, another probe at our defenses. Three days of this shit, and my patience was wearing thinner


    than paper.


    “How bad?” I asked Marcus as he trudged toward me, blood trickling from a fresh cut on his cheek.


    “Could be worse.” He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, leaving a red smear across his knuckles. “Three guys got banged up


    pretty good, but nothing that won’t heal. Problem is, the bastards are getting cockier.”


    I grabbed the map, stabbing red pins into each attack location with more force than necessary. The pattern that emerged made my jaw


    clench. These weren’t desperate rogues looking for easy prey-this was organized. Calcted.


    “They’re testing us,” I muttered, connecting the dots with my finger. “Hit and run, hit and run. Never staying long enough for a real fight.”


    Marcus nodded grimly. “Every damn time, it’s the same thing. Theye in hard, make noise, then vanish the second we show real


    teeth. Like they’re learning something.”


    “Learning what?”


    “How fast we respond. How many wolves we send. Which routes we take.” Marcus’s expression darkened. “Alpha, somebody’s mapping


    our defenses. This isn’t random violence-it’s reconnaissance.”


    The implications hit me like ice water. Organized rogue activity meant someone with serious resources was nning something big.


    Someone who wanted to know exactly how to hurt us when the time came.


    I was about to order additional patrols when a sound drifted through the trees that made every hair on my arms stand at attention


    Crying. A child’s crying, high and desperate and absolutely terrifying in this deste wilderness.


    “Did you hear that?” I asked Marcus, my entire body going rigid with alertness.


    His eyes widened as the sound came again-closer now, more distinct. “That’s… that’s a child, Alpha. Out here in rogue territory.”


    My mind raced through possibilities. Had the rogues taken a hostage? Was this some kind of trap designed to lure us deeper into the


    forest? Or was there actually a child lost in the wilderness, helpless and alone in one of the most dangerous areas of our territory?


    I gestured for Marcus and two other guards to follow me, but raised my hand for caution. “Weapons ready but not visible,” Imanded.


    “If this is an ambush, I want to be prepared. If it’s really a child in distress…”


    We moved through the dense forest with the silent precision of seasoned hunters, following the sound of sobbing that seemed to echo from deeper in the trees. The scent trails here were confusing-multiple wolves had passed through recently, their fear and aggression hanging in the air like a toxic cloud.


    But as we drew closer to the source of the crying, another scent reached me through the chaos of rogue markers and territorial


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    32 Chapter 32


    tensions. Familiar. Impossibly familiar.


    Vani and jasmine. Sweet and pure and absolutely out of ce in this wilderness of danger.


    Sera’s scent.


    My wolf Alex wentpletely berserk in my mind, pacing and snarling with recognition and desperate confusion. *Why would her scent.


    be here? Why would any trace of our mate be in this gods-forsaken ce?*


    I held up my hand, signaling the others to lower their weapons as understanding began to dawn. “Stand down,” Imanded quietly.


    “Whatever this is, it’s not an attack.”


    We pushed through the final cluster of pine trees and emerged into a small clearing where fallen logs created natural seating around


    what had once been a campfire ring. And there, sitting on the mossy ground with his back pressed against a massive oak tree, was a


    small figure that made my heart stoppletely.


    Adrian.


    Sera’s son was huddled against the tree trunk, his little arms wrapped around his knees as tears streamed down his dirt-stained cheeks.


    His dark curls were disheveled, leaves and twigs caught in the tangles, and his clothes-a bright blue t-shirt and tiny jeans-were torn


    and muddy from wandering through the forest.


    But even from twenty feet away, even through the grime and fear, those eyes were unmistakable. Deep blue with silver flecks that caught


    the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above.


    I was already moving before my brain had fully processed what I was seeing, crossing the clearing in long strides that ate up the distance


    between us. My heart was hammering against my ribs, confusion and shock warring in my chest.


    Adrian looked up at my approach, his small face a canvas of misery. Tears had carved clean tracks through the dirt on his cheeks, and his


    nose was running freely. His lower lip trembled as he tried to stop crying, clearly struggling to be brave despite being absolutely


    terrified.


    Leaves and small twigs were tangled in his dark curls, and I could see scratches on his small arms where branches had caught him. He


    looked so incredibly small sitting there against that massive oak tree, like a lost doll someone had carelessly discarded.


    “Are you my daddy?” he asked in a voice so small and hopeful it shattered something inside my chest.


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