Page 9 of Howl For A Kiss (Rebellious Mates #3)

SEVEN

ELENA

T he gates to Cade's rebel compound creaked open and Cade stood on the other side waiting to greet Elena and her rebel fighters.

His sharp eyes scanned Elena's group, lingering on Damon for a beat too long.

Elena's wolf stirred uneasily, but she pushed it down, focusing on projecting confidence.

She couldn't afford to show weakness, not here and not now.

"Elena," Cade said, his voice carrying the gravel of someone who'd seen too much too young. "Glad you made it here safely. Sorry again about your base. Rough business."

"It was unfortunate," Elena replied, her tone clipped but not unkind. "We appreciate the shelter."

Cade's gaze slid to Damon again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And who's this?"

Damon stepped forward, his posture relaxed but his presence anything but. "Damon Gray. Elena's new second-in-command."

Elena felt a flicker of irritation at the way Damon introduced himself—bold and unapologetic. Cade raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"Second-in-command, huh? Big shoes to fill after Tyler."

Elena's stomach twisted at the mention of Tyler's name, but she kept her expression neutral. "Damon's got the necessary skills. I trust him."

The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she hated how true they felt. She did trust him, despite the absurdity of it. She barely knew the man, yet her wolf insisted he was someone she could rely on. It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense.

Cade nodded slowly, though his expression remained unreadable. "Alright then. Follow me. We've got a cabin ready for your group."

The compound was a maze of cabins and outbuildings, fortified with reinforced walls and barbed wire.

Elena's rebel fighters trailed behind her, their footsteps crunching in the snow.

Damon walked beside her, his presence a steady warmth against the biting cold.

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she didn't look at him.

She couldn't right now. Not when her emotions were already a tangled mess and the harsh reality was firmly setting in.

The cabin that Cade led them to was newly built, its pine walls still smelling of fresh lumber.

The interior was sparsely furnished but functional, with enough bedrooms to house her fighters.

Damon carried her duffel bags into the largest room without being asked, his movements efficient and unassuming.

Elena hesitated in the doorway, watching him as he set her gear on the bed.

"You don't have to do that," she said finally, her voice softer than she intended.

Damon straightened, his eyes meeting hers. "I know."

The intensity in his gaze made her breath catch. There was something about the way he looked at her. Like she was the only person that mattered to him. It was unnerving and intoxicating all at once.

"I'll be next door if you need anything," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine, one she quickly suppressed.

Elena nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Thanks."

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more.

But then he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Elena took a deep breath and began to unpack her belongings.

The room was quiet, save for the sound of her breathing and the faint creak of the floorboards as Damon moved around in the adjacent room.

She sank onto the bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. The events of the past few days crashed over her with sudden intensity—Tyler's death, the ambush, the revelation about her hybrid nature, and now Damon. Her wolf stirred again, restless and insistent, and she closed her eyes to quiet her mind.

Her thoughts drifted to Tyler, his laughter, his loyalty, and the way he'd always had her back. Guilt gnawed at her, sharp and unrelenting. She'd failed him. Failed all of them. And yet, here she was, letting a stranger step into his place like it was nothing.

But Damon wasn't just a stranger, was he?

Her wolf seemed to know him in a way she couldn't explain, and that scared her more than anything.

She'd spent her whole life building walls around her heart and keeping people at arm's length.

Now, those walls were crumbling whenever she was around Damon, whether she liked it or not.

Exhaustion finally won out, and Elena lay back on the bed. As sleep claimed her, she dreamed of green eyes and a mysterious dark brown wolf with a white patch near its heart—a wolf that felt like safety and home.

Elena woke up with a start, her body jolting upright in the unfamiliar bed.

For a disorienting moment, she didn't recognize the cabin's low wooden ceiling or the faint scent of pine in the air.

Then memory crashed over her with startling clarity.

She was in a cabin on Cade's rebel base with her remaining rebel fighters, and Damon.

She exhaled sharply, running her hand through her tangled blonde hair. To her surprise, she felt... rested. The exhaustion that had clung to her like a second skin had finally loosened its grip.

A soft knock at the door made her pulse jump.

"Elena?" Damon's voice was low and rough with that same quiet intensity that sent an unwelcome shiver through her.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles. "Yeah?"

The door cracked open, and Damon stepped inside. He wore the same fitted black henley from yesterday, the fabric stretched taut over his chest and the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. In his right hand was a steaming mug of coffee.

Her heart stuttered at the kind gesture.

"You sleep okay?" He held out the mug, his green eyes scanning her face with a piercing intensity that made her skin prickle.

She took the coffee from him and their fingers brushed accidentally. The contact sent a jolt through her arm, and she barely suppressed the urge to jerk her hand back.

"Better than expected," she admitted, wrapping both hands around the mug to steady herself. The rich, bitter scent curled around her and grounded her in that moment.

Damon nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long before he stepped back. "Good. What's the plan for today?"

She took a slow sip, savoring the heat. "Give me five minutes to change. I'll meet you out there."

A flicker of pride crossed his face. "There's a room set up for you already. Figured you'd want a space to work."

Her brows lifted. "You set up an office for me?"

"Took what I could find. It's not much, but it'll do."

She stared at him, something warm and unfamiliar unfurling in her chest. No one had ever gone out of their way like this for her—not even Tyler. "Thanks," she murmured, the word feeling inadequate.

Damon just nodded again and left, closing the door behind him.

Elena set the coffee down and stripped off yesterday's clothes, her mind racing. Why was she so affected by him? By his gestures, his presence, and the way his eyes seemed to darken when he looked at her?

She pulled on a fitted white top, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way she normally wouldn't care about.

But today, she hesitated, glancing at her reflection in the small mirror and noticing how disheveled she looked.

She quickly dragged a brush through her tangled hair, then splashed cold water on her face, trying to shake off the strange flutter in her stomach.

Stop it. He's just a temporary ally. A stranger.

But her wolf disagreed, stirring with restless interest.

By the time she stepped into the makeshift office, she had her mask back in place—cool, composed, and in control.

Damon stood by a small desk, his arms crossed as he surveyed the room. He'd somehow scrounged up a chair, a weapons cabinet, even a bookshelf. The space was efficient, practical, and undeniably thoughtful.

Her chest tightened. "You really did all this?"

He turned, his gaze sweeping over her, lingering on the way the white fabric hugged her breasts before meeting her eyes. "Figured you'd need it."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. "I want to hit back. Hard. The operatives who ambushed us—they have outposts scattered across Tidewater territory. I've been tracking them for months."

Damon's expression darkened. "Revenge isn't always the best strategy."

"It's not just revenge," she snapped. "It's tactical. They'll keep hunting us unless we make them too afraid to come after us again."

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Show me."

Elena pulled out her maps from her backpack, spreading them across the desk. Her fingers traced the marked locations—abandoned warehouses, remote cabins, all places she'd painstakingly documented.

"This one," she said, tapping a spot near the eastern border. "It's their main hub. Take it out, and we cripple their operation for weeks."

Damon leaned over the map, his shoulder brushing hers. The contact sent heat skittering down her arm. "You've done some impressive reconnaissance," he murmured, his voice rough with approval.

She fought the urge to lean into him as his scent of pine and something darker and wilder wrapped around her senses like a temptation she couldn't afford. "I always do."

His lips quirked, just slightly—that rare, barely-there smirk that made her stomach tighten. "Well then, let's make them regret ever coming after you."

The promise in his voice was lethal, and it shouldn't have thrilled her as much as it did.

Damon leaned further over the map and his fitted black henley stretched across his back, the fabric pulling taut over muscles that flexed as he traced a route with his finger.

"What if we approach the main hub along this route and attack from their blind side with more stealth?

" he suggested, his tone holding that calm and cool undertone she was beginning to recognize as his signature sound.

"No, that's too discreet. I think we should approach from this angle," she said, jabbing a finger at the eastern ridge. "We cut off their power to the compound and attack them with grenades. Then we burn the place to the ground."

Damon's green eyes flicked up. "That's way too direct and problematic. They'll have scouts scattered around the perimeter, and too many operatives will get away before we even get close." He met her gaze for a long moment. "We go in quiet and take out their communications first."

"Quiet isn't going to send a message."

"Maybe not. But your survival sends a message." His voice was calm, infuriatingly so. "Plus, dead operatives can't report back or relocate to keep hunting you."

Elena clenched her jaw. She knew Damon was right. Knew it in the logical part of her brain that wasn't currently drowning in grief and fury. But the thought of taking out the human operatives one at a time, and holding back their full capabilities when Tyler's blood was still fresh in the snow?—

"Are you thinking about those ancient records? Because it seems like this attack is more personal than you'd like to admit," Damon said, watching her too closely.

She stiffened. "Of course I'm thinking about those records. We risked everything for them. Tyler died for them. And now Logan and Zoe just took off with them. So yeah, maybe this is a bit personal for me."

"Logan and Zoe didn't have a choice." Damon straightened, his gaze unwavering. "They'll decode the intel, and we'll figure out what to do next with the Council at that time. But right now, this—" He tapped the map. "—is what we can control, and what we need to be smart about. To keep you safe."

Elena exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. He was right. Again. Always right, always steady, and always the voice of reason when all she wanted was to tear into something with her new claws.

"Fine," she bit out. "We do it your way."

A flicker of approval crossed his face, and damn if that didn't make her wolf stir with something dangerously close to pride.

She leaned back in her chair and studied him, generally curious about how he seemed to know how to handle every situation. "So, what's your life like back in Silvercrest territory?"

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. His shoulders tensed and his expression shuttered. "Complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I've got right now."

Elena narrowed her eyes. The way he shut down—like a door slamming in her face—itched at her instincts. There was something he wasn't telling her. Something significant.

But pushing him now would probably only make him retreat further.

She let it drop, turning back to the map. "We should go tonight. Just us. More recon."

Damon nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a heartbeat too long before he stepped back. "Let's eat now. You haven't had a real meal in over a day."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He held out his hand to help her up.

She took it, ignoring the spark that shot up her arm at the contact. His grip was firm and warm, and when he pulled her to her feet, they were suddenly too close. Inches apart. His breath ghosted over her lips and his scent wrapped around her like a claim.

Her wolf surged forward, hungry and wanting.

Kiss him.

The thought was reckless and stupid. But the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing—made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing.

She jerked back before she could find out.

"Let's go," she muttered, striding toward the door before he could see the flush creeping up her neck.

Damon didn't follow immediately. But she could feel his gaze on her back, heavy and knowing.

And damn if that didn't make her want him even more.