Page 15

LOGAN

The acrid scent of diesel and desperation hit my nostrils before I even reached the mining camp. Workers scattered as I strode through the dusty compound. My boots kicked up clouds that matched the storm brewing inside me. My wolf paced beneath my skin, ready to break free.

Everything my senses took in put me on edge, the caustic chemical odor that shouldn’t exist here, the nervous heartbeats of workers who avoided my gaze. My beast recognized the scent of corruption before my human mind processed it.

I spotted Vance near the main office with a clipboard in hand, his self-satisfied smirk vanishing when he saw me approach.

Despite the dusty surroundings, he wore an immaculate suit and Italian leather shoes.

The contrast between his polished appearance and the poisoned land made my wolf roar.

His scent changed instantly as I walked toward him, sharp with fear cutting through his designer cologne.

“Song.” He straightened, attempting nonchalance while his pulse raced visibly at his throat. “Here to throw your weight around again?”

I didn’t slow. Three strides closed the distance, then I grabbed him by his pristine collar and slammed him against the corrugated metal wall. His clipboard clattered to the ground, papers scattering in the dirt.

“Victoria’s game is over,” I snarled. The wolf in me wanted to roar, to let the entire camp hear this man’s confession, but strategy demanded discretion. For now. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

Vance’s bravado wavered, but he managed a sneer. “Or what? You’ll kill me? She’ll just send another puppet.”

My grip tightened around his collar. I leaned closer, letting him feel my breath, smell the predator barely contained within my human form.

“Try me.”

The air between us crackled with alpha energy. Vance’s pupils dilated—naked fear finally breaking through his facade. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against my knuckles.

“Fine.” His voice cracked. “You want the truth? She planted me here. Just like she planted others. To control the narrative, to make sure the contamination stayed hidden until it was too late.”

My wolf howled inside, demanding retribution. My own blood was capable of this calculated cruelty. The primal part wanted to shift right there, to tear out Vance’s throat for being Victoria’s puppet while innocent shifters suffered.

I fought the change, feeling my canines lengthen against my will, my vision sharpening as my eyes threatened to shift.

“And Roberts?”

Vance’s laugh cracked like brittle glass. “You think that was natural causes? Please. She needed him out of the way so she could swoop in and save the mine. At a steep discount, of course.”

The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. The contamination, the timing of Roberts’s death, and Victoria’s lawyers circling like vultures. All of it orchestrated with ruthless precision.

As I released Vance, something flashed in his eyes beyond fear or anger. He straightened his jacket with trembling hands, but beneath the scent of fear, I caught something else, the acrid odor of a cornered predator.

This man wasn’t just scared. He was unstable. The combination of fear and opportunism made him unpredictable. Like a wounded animal that might flee or might turn and attack with unexpected ferocity.

I filed the observation away, keeping my expression neutral. “You’re pathetic. Selling out your own kind for her scraps.”

Vance adjusted his collar. “She pays better than loyalty.”

I turned to leave.

“You can’t stop her, Song,” he called after me. “She’s already won.”

I didn’t look back. “We’ll see.”

Back in my truck, I slammed the door and gripped the wheel until the leather creaked beneath my hands. My claws were still partially emerged, leaving rips in the expensive upholstery. I couldn’t remember when I’d last lost control like this.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe through the fury. Each inhale carried the lingering scent of the mine’s poison, each exhale a reminder of Victoria’s betrayal. My family had deliberately contaminated the water, knowing it would sicken shifters. Knowing it would hurt my people.

Because they were my people now, weren’t they? Not the Songs with their power plays and backstabbing, but Angel Spring. Marshall. Juniper.

Sabrina.

Her face appeared in my mind, and immediately, the rage faded. My claws retracted, and my breathing evened to a slow and steady pace. The clarity my mate brought me, even when she wasn’t next to me, was becoming something I couldn’t live without.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my PR team, the elite media specialists I kept on a seven-figure retainer for situations requiring discretion and immediate action.

“Faulkner,” I said when my head of PR answered on the first ring. “I need the full package. Roberts Mining contamination scandal. Give it everything we have. Front page headlines, investigative features, social media blitz. This story breaks on every platform by morning.”

“Sir, that’s an aggressive timeline. The legal team will need—”

“Double their fees. Triple them if necessary.” My tone left no room for negotiation. “This goes beyond business. People are dying.”

I ended the call and immediately dialed my personal office. “Allocate twenty million for medical relief and water filtration systems. And I want Song Timber’s environmental division redirected to Angel Spring. Full decontamination protocol.”

The power of wealth had always felt hollow before, just another form of family control. But now, with the power of using my resources to protect rather than exploit, I felt something unfamiliar. Purpose.

Like instinctive muscle memory, I dialed Sabrina’s number.

While I told her everything, I navigated the truck down the mountain road, dirt and gravel pinging against the undercarriage.

Sabrina went silent for several heartbeats, and I could almost see her processing, that brilliant mind working through implications.

“We’ll shut the mine down,” she finally said, voice firm with resolve.

My chest tightened with something between pride and worry. “It’s not that simple. Without the heir of the Roberts pack’s assets signing off—”

“Then we find him,” Sabrina cut in. “Who owns the mine now?”

My mind raced through old connections, half-forgotten conversations at pack gatherings. “Tanner Roberts. Estranged, but the only heir left.” I pulled over just long enough to text my assistant: Find Tanner Roberts. Get him to Angel Spring ASAP.

By the time I reached the clinic, I had settled into a state of vigilant calmness. The rage hadn’t disappeared, but it had transformed into something focused.

Sabrina was already packing up her supplies into her bag when I walked in. She looked up, those warm brown eyes assessing me in that way only she could. “Your eyes are still amber,” she said softly, setting down a stack of bandages. “The wolf is close.”

I hadn’t realized my partial shift was still visible. With anyone else, I would have hidden that vulnerability. With her, I didn’t bother.

I caught her wrist as she reached for more supplies, feeling her pulse jump beneath my thumb. The connection between us sparked like a live wire, making my wolf rumble with satisfaction.

“Sabrina.”

She turned, and I cupped her face, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her cheekbone. Against my rough, calloused hands, she felt impossibly soft. The contrast between us, her warmth against my cold fury, her healing touch against my destructive rage, struck me as the miracle it was.

“You healed me,” I murmured, the words coming from somewhere deeper than thought.

Her eyes softened. “You let me.”

I exhaled, feeling the last of my defenses crumble. “I was afraid. Of failing the town. Of failing you.” The admission cost me, but her presence made it possible.

Sabrina leaned into my touch, her eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. “You’re not alone anymore. Now let’s end this for good.”

Later, I sat in my study, reviewing the press release draft.

The language was clinical and precise, laying out Victoria’s connections to the mine’s management, the contamination timeline, and the suspicious circumstances of Roberts’ death.

Every claim backed by evidence, every accusation a loaded gun aimed at my aunt’s empire.

Sabrina watched from the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re really going nuclear with this, huh?”

Outside, dark clouds hung over the mountains. A storm was approaching, both literally and figuratively. Time was up.

I looked up, meeting her gaze. “It’s the only way to stop her.”

Sabrina came over, leaning over the back of my chair. She rested her chin on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me. “Just be careful. Power like this, it’s a double-edged sword.”

I nodded, my voice softening. “I know. But I’m doing this for them.” My eyes held hers. “For you.”

The next morning, the story broke. Headlines screamed about Roberts Mining’s negligence and Victoria’s shadowy involvement, even questioning the CEO’s cause of death. My phone buzzed constantly with calls from reporters, investors, and business associates. Then finally, Victoria’s number.

I silenced the device and pocketed it. Let her stew. Let her feel, just for a moment, what it was like to have your life controlled by someone else.

Sabrina found me on the porch, staring at the mountains as the sun rose over the peaks.

“It’s everywhere,” she said, holding up her phone to show another headline. “You’ve got the whole world talking.”

I nodded, jaw tight. “Good. Let them talk. Let her squirm.”

Sabrina settled beside me on the porch swing, her shoulder brushing mine. Her warm scent mingled with the pine and dew in the morning air. She rested her hand on my arm.

“You’re not just a billionaire throwing his weight around, Logan,” she said softly. “You’re doing the right thing.”