Page 8 of Alpha Wolf (Return To Fate Mountain #6)

Chapter

Seven

Dom pushed through the doors of Steel Protection headquarters.

He’d been riding the mountain roads for hours, trying to clear his head after being questioned by his fated mate like he was an arson suspect.

His pack looked up from their desks, faces grim.

The police scanner on Axel’s desk crackled to life before anyone could speak.

Dom stopped in his tracks. “Rebecca Mathews was murdered.”

Siren’s expression was dark. “We figured as much.”

“Meeting room,” Dom said, his voice tight. “Now.”

Within minutes, all six pack members had assembled around the conference table.

“What happened out there?” Blaze asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Dom ran a hand through his hair. “When I showed up at Rebbeca Mathews’ house, it was on fire.” Dom’s voice was flat. “Neighbors said I arrived just after the fire trucks.”

Axel whistled low. “That’s some timing.”

“Where have you been?” Blaze asked. “We tried to call you multiple times.”

“My phone was off. I had to clear my head after being questioned by police.”

“We look guilty as hell,” Siren said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Diner incident two nights ago, then this. Community already sees us as dangerous outsiders.”

“Every move we make now will be scrutinized,” Axel added, his fingers drumming against the table. “They’ll be watching for any excuse to pin this on us.”

“Why were you so triggered by police questioning, Dom? That’s not like you,” Hunter asked.

Dom gritted his teeth, dreading telling them the truth. He sighed, finally resigned to the fact that they’d find out eventually. “The officer who questioned me… was my fated mate. Officer Valeria Reynalds. The chief’s daughter.”

Axel let out a long, sharp whistle.

“Which is why we need to be smart about this,” Dom went on.

He closed his eyes, recalling the conversation word for word.

“Rebecca said there were people who might want to hurt her. She sounded genuinely frightened, but she wouldn’t give specifics over the phone. Insisted on meeting in person only.”

“People, plural,” Hunter observed. “Organized.”

“And the phone security,” Siren added. “It’s possible she was afraid her phone was tapped.”

The room fell silent as the implications sank in.

“The police probably think we did it,” Blaze pointed out. “She called us because she was scared, and now she’s dead. The timing makes us the obvious suspects.”

Dom stood, pacing to the window that looked out on Main Street.

“Whoever she was afraid of got to her before we could protect her,” Siren said quietly.

Dom turned back to his pack. “Which is why we need to find the real killer before the Fate Mountain PD finds a way to pin this on us.”

He moved back to the table. “Axel, I want you on digital forensics and public records. Background, employment, financial history, anything you can find about Rebecca Matthews. Start with what’s publicly available.”

Axel nodded. “On it.”

“Hunter, neighborhood intelligence gathering. Talk to neighbors, coworkers, anyone who knew her. Find out who she was afraid of.”

“Understood.”

“Siren, I need you working on a psychological profile and behavioral analysis.”

“Roger that.”

“Blaze, you’re backup for any confrontational situations. If we need muscle or intimidation, you handle it.”

Blaze cracked his knuckles. “Looking forward to it.”

“Ryder, surveillance and security. I want you to watch for anyone watching us. Mobile lookout and counter-surveillance measures.”

“Got it, Boss.”

Dom sat back down, feeling some of his tension ease now that they had a plan.

“Any visible investigation makes us look guilty, so we’re going to be smart about this.

Hunter, your neighborhood canvas needs to be disguised as routine business.

We’re a security company; we have legitimate reasons to be asking questions about community safety. ”

“And if the police ask what we’re doing?” Hunter asked.

“We’re conducting a security assessment for potential clients,” Siren answered smoothly.

“Exactly.” Dom looked around the table.

Axel was already pulling out his laptop. “I can get started on the basic research right now. Public records, employment verification, that kind of thing.”

For the next hour, they refined their approach while Axel worked. The information he found painted a picture of a perfectly ordinary woman.

“Rebecca Matthews, thirty-two years old,” Axel reported. “Employed at County Emergency Management for eight years. Clean background, no criminal history. Address history shows she’s lived in the same house for five years.”

“Online presence?” Dom asked.

“Minimal. Very private person. Basic social media profiles but hardly any activity. She kept a very low digital profile.”

“That fits with someone who’d learned to be security conscious,” Siren observed.

“Property records normal, voter registration current, no red flags anywhere,” Axel continued. “Whatever she was mixed up in, it didn’t leave obvious traces.”

Dom felt the familiar satisfaction of a well-planned operation taking shape. His pack knew their roles, they had a clear objective, and they were using their considerable skills to protect an innocent community. But underneath the professional satisfaction, a deeper pain gnawed at him.

“Pack’s dismissed for tonight,” Dom finally said as the sun began to set. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we start hunting.”

Dom climbed the stairs, each step heavier than the last. Inside his apartment, he sank onto his couch.

He pulled out his phone, checking for messages from Rookie Bear that weren’t there.

Rookie Bear. His fated mate. The woman he’d been texting with for less than forty-eight hours but who’d already become the center of his world.

The woman who’d looked at him today like he was a dangerous criminal.

The memory hurt. Her ice-cold voice. The way she’d looked at him. It was like he was a threat to be managed. So formal. So distant. Like they were strangers instead of two souls meant to be together.

But he’d seen it, just for a second. The recognition in her eyes when she first spotted him.

The way her breath had caught, her pupils dilating.

Then she’d shut it down, buried it beneath professional duty and suspicion.

The rejection of the mate bond was a physical ache that no amount of military training could overcome.

Dom set his phone aside and rubbed his face with both hands.

The cruel irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d spent five years moving from place to place, never staying long enough to build personal connections, focused entirely on the mission.

The one time he’d allowed himself to hope for something more, to believe in the possibility of a mate and a future, it had fallen apart before it had even started.