The tension inside the security control room was so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Elara stared at the shards of bourbon glass scattered across the floor, the golden liquor mixing with drops of blood from the back of her hand. The scratch was small, but its sting spread all the way to her solar plexus beneath the psychological pressure Bastian had created.
The mafia boss towered over her, his alcohol-laced breath rumbling softly. Bastian’s dark eyes radiated a twisted, unhealthy obsession.
“You’re not answering me, Elara,” Bastian whispered, his voice eerily calm—a terrifying contrast to the fury he had unleashed moments ago. He pulled a tissue from the table, then slowly, torturously, wiped the blood from Elara’s hand. “You’re not denying that the monster from the forest is your Mate.”
Elara drew a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil of the wolf within that was struggling to protect her sacred mate bond. She knew lying at this point was pointless. Bastian had an information network capable of digging up anyone’s deepest secrets in this city.
“The concept of a Mate is an outdated fairy tale to my kind, Bastian,” Elara replied in a voice as cold as ice. She stared straight into the man’s eyes. “I’m a Rogue. An outcast. I have no pack, no family, and certainly no intention of submitting to some stupid magical bond that forces one wolf to become another wolf’s slave. Alpha Raga may claim me, but I have never been willing to accept him.”
Bastian fell silent. His gaze traced every inch of Elara’s face, searching for a lie. Slowly, a frightening, crooked smile spread across his lips. He released Elara’s hand and tossed the bloody tissue onto the floor.
“Smart answer, sweetheart,” Bastian said, his tone shifting back to casual, like a CEO who had just won a business negotiation. “I’m glad to hear it. Because starting tonight, your security will be upgraded to the highest level. You won’t leave this penthouse without my protection. Serena and Gideon will make sure not a single stray dog can get within five hundred meters of this floor.”
“You’re locking me up,” Elara hissed, her eyes narrowing angrily. “I’m not your captive, Bastian. I’m your employee!”
“You’re mine, Elara. And right now, there’s a thief trying to break into my home,” Bastian cut in sharply, refusing to accept any argument. He turned and walked toward the door. “Get some rest. Your silver wound hasn’t healed yet. We have a major auction this weekend, and I want my precious jewel looking perfect at my side.”
The door slammed shut, followed by the sound of the electronic lock being activated from outside. Elara was left alone in the control room, staring at the monitor, which was still frozen on Alpha Raga’s face.
Across the city, in a luxurious suite at a five-star hotel, the night air was bitingly cold. Alpha Raga stood on the balcony, staring at the glittering lights of the concrete jungle with deep hatred. His Armani jacket had been tossed carelessly onto the sofa. His shirt was open at the chest, revealing solid muscles tensing with every low growl rumbling from his throat.
Beta Kael sat in front of a laptop displaying dozens of data charts and maps of the city’s territory.
“Raga, you need to calm down. Your Alpha Aura is leaking across the entire hotel floor. The human in the next room already called the front desk because they’re having trouble breathing,” Kael warned as he typed rapidly, hacking into several of the city’s banking databases.
“I can feel her fear, Kael,” Raga growled, his golden-red eyes shining beneath the shadows of the night. “She’s hurt, she’s terrified, and that bastard human is locking her up. My wolf wants to rip Bastian Hanggara’s throat out tonight.”
Kael sighed and closed his laptop for a moment. “And trigger an open war that would slaughter half our pack? No. We’re in human territory, Alpha. If you use your claws and fangs now, the human Hunters will have a legitimate reason to exterminate the Blackwood Pack. We have to play by their rules.”
Raga turned and fixed Kael with a sharp stare. “Then what’s your plan, Adviser?”
“We destroy his mafia empire from the roots,” Kael said with a thin grin. “Bastian may control the streets, but you’re the leader of a pack with assets worth trillions, amassed over centuries. I’ve instructed our shell companies to begin forcibly acquiring the three logistics companies Bastian uses to smuggle his silver weapons. Within forty-eight hours, his weapons supply will be crippled.”
Raga smiled coldly. The darkness in his eyes had not faded, but his ruler’s logic had now taken over. “Good. Bleed that human dry before we chop off his head. Find out where he’s hiding Elara. I want the layout of his building, his security schedule, and the blind spots in his cameras on my desk before sunrise.”