Page 25 of Marked For A Bite (Rebellious Mates #2)

TWENTY-ONE

ZOE

Z oe watched as Kieran began tracing his finger along the blueprints spread across the dining table with an intense expression on his face. The memory of his rescue mission to extract Maya three months ago seemed to replay behind his gaze as he spoke.

"The main entrance was heavily fortified," Kieran said, his voice taking on the clipped tone of a military briefing. "Broad atrium with those damn high windows in the southeast section—clinical white floors that echoed every footstep. Made stealth nearly impossible."

Malcolm leaned over his brother's shoulder, studying the architectural details.

"The exterior is pure concrete brutalism.

But the maintenance tunnel access point.

.." He tapped a section near the back of the facility.

"Hidden grate with a locked latch, built right into the hillside behind the medical facility. "

Twenty-five years, Zoe thought, her chest tightening as she imagined her father somewhere beneath all those layers of concrete and steel. He's been trapped down there for my entire life.

"Those maintenance tunnels were a nightmare," Kieran continued, his jaw clenching with remembered frustration. "Damp and narrow as hell. We had to move single file, and every sound carried. The normal underground section is in the eastern wing, accessed through those tunnels."

Zoe was unconsciously gripping the edge of the table as Kieran described the heavy metal door that required a keycard, and the two guards who'd been stationed there like sentinels.

"Inside the underground level, everything reeked of antiseptic and fear," Kieran's voice dropped lower. "White corridors, tiled floors, and heavily armed guards at every checkpoint. The whole place felt like a laboratory designed to break someone's spirit."

And somewhere below even that hell, my father has been waiting.

Logan had been absorbing every detail with focused intensity, his green eyes tracking each point on the blueprints. Now he straightened, and Zoe could practically see the tactical wheels turning in his mind.

"I think I know where they'd put the entrance to the hidden super sublevel," Logan said, his voice carrying that authority that made everyone in the room immediately focus on him.

Zoe's pulse quickened as she watched him lean over the table, his finger hovering over a specific section of the blueprints.

"It would be in the most obvious place," he continued.

"Just like how they hid the scroll right at Moon Hollow under the High Council's noses.

The hidden door would be right here—" He tapped the floor space near the heavy metal door Kieran had described.

"Right by the entrance to the regular underground level. "

Malcolm's eyebrows shot up. "That's... actually brilliant in its simplicity."

"Nobody would think to look for a floor entrance right next to a guarded door," Logan said with satisfaction. "Plus, it explains why they stationed two guards at that particular chokepoint. They weren't just protecting the underground level—they were protecting access to something even deeper."

Zoe felt a surge of pride for her mate's tactical brilliance, even as anxiety knotted in her stomach. The plan was taking shape, but the reality of infiltrating such a heavily defended facility was becoming stark.

"We'll need the same basic approach as Maya's extraction," Kieran decided. "But with additional pack members in each strike team this time."

He began sketching on a separate piece of paper.

"Alpha team goes in through the maintenance tunnels—that's our primary insertion point.

Beta team creates a diversion at the main entrance to draw guards away from our target zone.

Gamma team secures the escape route and provides medical support in the southeast section. "

Logan nodded approvingly. "Good strategy, but they might anticipate our approach from last time. I suggest we stagger additional backup teams—Delta and Sigma units to come in after the initial deployment. And most importantly, every team uses extreme stealth protocols and silent signals only."

"Agreed." Kieran was already reaching for his phone. "I'll round up pack members now. We meet at the border between Silvercrest and Granite Ridge territories in two hours. That gives everyone time to gear up and coordinate."

Zoe's heart hammered as the reality of the mission crystallized. In just two hours, they would be heading into enemy territory to rescue her father. The man she'd never known, who'd sacrificed everything to protect her and her mother.

Logan's hand found her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers in a gesture that sent warmth shooting through her despite the tension crackling in the air.

"Time to go gear up properly," he said, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter.

He led Zoe out the front door of Kieran's cabin and down the wooden porch steps. She felt a pulse of nervous anticipation with each step they took toward Logan's cabin.

"Two hours isn't much time," Logan said, "but it's enough to train you on firearms and poison protocols."

Zoe's steps faltered slightly. "Poison protocols?"

Logan's expression was grim as he slowed his pace to match hers. "Granite Ridge has been known to use poison-tipped arrows and bullets. If you get hit, you need to know how to extract them properly or the toxin will kill you faster than the wound itself."

This just got very real, Zoe thought, her stomach lurching at the casual way Logan delivered this deadly information.

They reached Logan's fortified cabin in record time—thirty minutes of Logan pushing their pace through the forest until Zoe's lungs burned. Once inside, he immediately headed to what she now realized was his weapons cache.

"Strip the harness," he commanded, his voice taking on that absolute authority that made her wolf sit up and take notice. "I'm upgrading your loadout."

Zoe fumbled with the leather straps, her fingers suddenly clumsy from the pressure of their impending mission. Logan, on the other hand, moved with lethal efficiency around his cabin, gathering additional weapons like a man preparing for war.

"Two Glock 19s," he said, pressing the sleek black pistols into her hands. "Fifteen rounds each, one in the chamber. Safety's here, trigger pull is smooth, aim center mass."

The weight of the guns felt foreign and terrifying in her palms. "Logan, I've never held a gun."

"You have now." He then guided her hands into proper position, his larger fingers wrapping around hers to demonstrate the grip.

The contact sent heat shooting up her arms despite the deadly seriousness of the situation.

"Feel that? Firm but not death grip. The gun's an extension of your arm, not a separate tool. "

For the next hour in his training gym, Logan drilled her relentlessly. He taught her to draw, aim, and fire in fluid motions until muscle memory began to take hold. His hands were everywhere—adjusting her stance, correcting her grip, and steadying her shoulders when the recoil made her stumble.

"Again," he barked when she hesitated on a reload. "In the field, hesitation kills you."

And gets my father killed too, Zoe reminded herself, forcing her shaking fingers to slam the magazine home with more confidence.

Logan moved to poison protocols last, producing vicious-looking arrows and bullets from his collection.

"Granite Ridge favors neurotoxins that cause paralysis within minutes.

You extract by cutting perpendicular to the wound path—never pull straight out or you'll tear the blood vessels and spread the poison faster. "

He demonstrated on a training dummy, his knife work precise and surgical. "Apply pressure here and here to slow circulation. You've got roughly four minutes before full nervous system shutdown."

Four minutes. The timeframe seared itself into her brain. Four minutes to save my own life.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Logan finally declared her ready. They left his cabin armed to the teeth—Zoe now carried the additional Glocks in shoulder holsters, with extra ammunition secured to her thighs alongside her throwing knives.

The meetup point at the Silvercrest-Granite Ridge border buzzed with controlled energy when they arrived thirty minutes later. Forty pack members in tactical gear stood clustered around a detailed map, their faces painted with black camouflage streaks.

Maya approached them first, her copper hair braided back. "Any last-minute intelligence on the target?"

"Negative," Logan replied. "We go in with what we have."

Kieran's commanding voice cut through the low conversations. "Final briefing. Alpha team—Logan, Zoe, Lena, and five pack members—takes point through the maintenance tunnels. Malcolm's Beta team creates diversion at main entrance. Gamma secures escape routes and provides medical support."

Logan stepped forward, his reputation as the Silvercrest pack's deadliest enforcer immediately affording him the attention from every pack member present.

"Delta team waits ten minutes, then follows Alpha through the tunnels.

Sigma waits another ten after that. Hand signals only once we breach the facility perimeter.

Anyone who compromises operational security answers to me personally. "

The threat in his voice was unmistakable. Several pack members shifted nervously.

Zoe's stomach churned violently. My father is somewhere under that concrete fortress. Twenty-five years of imprisonment because he fell in love with a human.

Logan appeared beside her, his hand finding the small of her back. "Breathe," he murmured in her ear. "Remember what I taught you—center yourself, focus on the immediate objective, and let muscle memory guide your actions."

His familiar scent of mountain rain and masculine heat washed over her, temporarily settling her racing heart. "What if I freeze up? What if I can't do this?"

"You can do this," Logan said with certainty. "I've seen you fight. I've seen you kill to protect what matters. This is exactly the same."

The pure conviction in his voice steadied something deep within her. He believes in me. My mate believes I can do this.

Twenty minutes later, they moved through the darkening forest toward the Granite Ridge medical facility like a pack of hunting wolves. Zoe could smell the industrial concrete and antiseptic even before the brutal building came into view.

Logan raised his fist, signaling the Alpha team to halt at the edge of the tree line. The maintenance grate lay fifty yards ahead, built into the hillside exactly as Malcolm had described.

"Remember," Logan whispered, "stealth is everything. We're ghosts until we reach the hidden door."

Within minutes, he made quick work of the locked latch with tools that appeared in his hands like magic. After he pulled the grate off without making a sound, he turned to the Alpha team and mouthed a countdown.

This is it, Zoe thought as Logan disappeared into the narrow tunnel first. Dad, this time I'm the one who's doing the protecting.