Page 49

Strangely, the thought brought more relief than regret. For the first time in his life, his choices were his own, guided by what he believed rather than what was expected. Maya's safety mattered more than his birthright. His future with her mattered more than a title.

"We move in three teams," Kieran instructed, leaning over the facility blueprints. "Alpha team with me through the maintenance tunnels. Beta team creates a diversion at the main entrance. Gamma team secures our escape route and provides medical support."

The wolf shifters gathered around, their faces set with determination as Kieran laid out the assault plan with natural authority.

Malcolm caught his eye across the table. "You know what this means, right? After today, there's no going back."

Kieran nodded, feeling the mate bond pulse within him like a second heartbeat. "I wouldn't want to."

The early afternoon sun cast sharp shadows across the concrete exterior of the Granite Ridge medical facility as Kieran and his strike teams moved into position. Dressed in black tactical gear that hugged his powerful frame, Kieran felt the weight of the mission in every fiber of his being. The mate bond thrummed steadily now, stronger with proximity—Maya was inside, and she needed him.

"Alpha team, comms check," Kieran's voice was low and commanding as he tapped his earpiece.

Malcolm adjusted his tactical vest, the quiet confidence in his movements mirroring his brother's. "All units reporting ready," he confirmed, his blue eyes revealing none of the anxiety that must have been churning beneath the surface.

"Remember," Kieran addressed the six wolves comprising Alpha team, "we move as one unit. No heroics." His eyes swept over each face, his gaze hardening. "And anyone who hesitates when we find Maya answers to me personally."

The maintenance tunnel entrance loomed before them—an innocuous grate set into the hillside behind the facility. Kieran knelt, his broad shoulders blocking the view as his fingers worked the lock with practiced precision. The latch gave way with a soft click.

"Beta team, begin your distraction in sixty seconds," he instructed through the comms. "Gamma team, secure the southeast exit and prepare medical."

Malcolm crouched beside him, his shoulders nearly touching. "Just like when we raided the Shadow Pack for taking our territory marker," he whispered, a flash of their shared childhood briefly lighting his eyes.

"Except this time, I'm not letting you take point," Kieran replied, unsheathing a serrated tactical knife. "My mate. My lead."

The tunnel stretched before them, damp and narrow, forcing the team to move in single file. Kieran led, each step silent despite his size, his senses hyper-focused on detecting any signs of guards or surveillance. The mate bond pulled at him like a physical tether, growing stronger with each yard they advanced.

"She's below us," Kieran whispered, feeling the connection pulse with renewed intensity. "East wing, just like the intel said."

Malcolm nodded, pressing a digital blueprint against the tunnel wall. "Maintenance shaft should branch right in twenty yards. Takes us directly to the sublevel access point."

The sounds of chaos erupted from above—Beta team's distraction beginning right on schedule. A smile that held no warmth curved Kieran's mouth. "That's our cue."

They moved with fluid precision, years of training transforming seven individuals into a single predatory unit. At the first junction, Kieran held up a closed fist, bringing the team to an immediate halt. Two heartbeats ahead—guards stationed at the sublevel access door.

"Two targets," he mouthed to Malcolm, who nodded and signaled to the others.

Without hesitation, Kieran rounded the corner in a controlled rush. The first guard barely had time to register the intrusion before Kieran's fist connected with his throat, crushing his windpipe. The second guard reached for his weapon, but Malcolm was already there, his forearm locking around the man's neck in a precision choke hold.

"Keycard," Kieran said, his voice barely a whisper as he searched the unconscious guard. Finding it clipped to the man's belt, he swiped it through the reader beside the heavy metal door.

The sublevel opened before them—stark white corridors that reeked of antiseptic and fear. Kieran's nostrils flared, sorting through the chemical stench until he caught it—theunmistakable scent of Maya, laced with something wild and uncontrolled.

"She's shifted," he growled, the wolf inside him clawing to break free at the wrongness of her scent. "Not fully, but enough."

Malcolm touched his brother's arm. "Kieran, remember the plan. We clear the path, then extract."

But Kieran was already moving, drawn by instinct more powerful than strategic training. The bond between them sang in his blood, drowning out everything but the need to reach her. Two guards rounded the corner ahead, weapons raised. Kieran didn't break stride, his movements a brutal dance as he disarmed the first and used his momentum to slam the second into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.

"Alpha One has gone off-plan," Malcolm's exasperated voice came through the comms. "Alpha team, adapt and follow."

Kieran barely heard him. Another corridor. Another door. The bond burned brighter with each step. He could feel her now—her fear, her rage, and her confusion as her body battled changes she couldn't understand.

"Maya," he whispered, the name a prayer and a promise as he prepared to breach the final door separating them.

NINETEEN

MAYA