Page 27 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)
TWENTY-SEVEN
AVA
A va stared down at the polished conference table in PEACE headquarters.
Its glass surface reflected her rough braid, her stained jacket.
She didn’t mind, it meant she’d been out and done shit.
And today wasn’t a day for pretty. She was here for one reason only.
Because Landon asked her to speak to the PEACE liaison and hear out what they found.
She smoothed her hands over the leather cover of her notebook.
Every note, every bolded bullet point screamed the same message: Gideon’s Torch wasn’t dormant.
They were regathering, funding cells, smuggling hardware.
She’d barely escaped the whisper of violence back in the greenhouse with Silas, and now PEACE needed to know before a second Butte attack unfolded.
The liaison cleared his throat before she could open her mouth.
“Miss Monroe,” he began, voice leveled polite but with a razor’s edge. “I trust you’re settled in at court?”
She lifted her head. Behind his tailored jacket, the man was sharp. Mid-40s, wire-rimmed glasses, short gray at his temples. If Landon’s advisors were wolves in suits, this one was a fox—slick and cautious. “Doing my best,” she said.
He nodded once. “Your attendance in court has been… noted.”
Ava chewed her lip. “My role helped keep the Red Pack aligned.”
He tapped his pen. “Right. That was… bold.” He turned the pen between his fingers with deliberate slowness. “Seeing a human do diplomacy with a pack of wolf-shifters isn’t something we see every day. But it… worked.”
She exhaled. “I’m glad it did.”
He leaned forward. “Your presence there—it sends a message. But I hope you understand: humans don’t lead there. Shifter politics?—“
“Are failing because humans keep pretending they don’t stink and that shifters know nothing?” Ava cut in.
He blinked. “I’m only reminding you of guidelines.”
Ava closed her notebook. “Guidelines? I’m informing you of a domestic terror group preparing to strike. I’m doing your job. What’s the guideline?”
He steepled his fingers. “Allegiance is nuanced. We’re taking this report seriously. But…” His gaze slid down to her scar. “A human running in circles above us?”
She slammed the notebook flat. “I got the intel. Are you gonna act or not?”
The liaison didn’t flinch. “Miss Monroe, PEACE is managing multiple fronts. We need a solid chain of command. You are… outside it. If I may suggest, remain a consultant. Don’t lean into titles.”
Ava gripped the notebook tight enough to crack the binding.
“I’m not the one calling it a terror group without fulfilling my obligations.
” She stood, drew herself up tall. “I’m asking for action—not warnings.
Soldiers are dying. Innocent people are dying.
And now we know they are reallying for something big, along with the Secret Sons who are doing their own level of attacks.
Isn’t that your job to keep the peace between humans and shifters and neutralize the threat?
That’s what this organization is supposedly run on when the veil fell.
If you don't do it, you don’t deserve the job. ”
He sat, lean and unmoved. “Consider your role carefully, Miss Monroe. Overreach could?—“
“—What?” She leaned in. Steam seemed to rise from her. “Make me public enemy number one? I’ve heard much scarier shit than your polite warnings.”
He tucked a stray hair behind his ear. “For your sake, I’d keep out of power games.”
She laughed, low. “For my sake? That’s rich.
” She turned to go—but paused. “Just promise that shit finds the right ears. I’m not safe unless you do.
And you may not care about the packs involved trying to keep peace, but I damn sure know that if people hear that you let a human fall along with having prior knowledge, that shit will hit deep. Just food for thought.”
He watched her jacket brush the doorframe, like it was a threat. “Noted.”
She shut the door behind her. The echo rang clear as her pulse.
Ava moved down the corridor to the lobby, trying to steady the lightning in her chest. Fear? Of course. They were all small-town artists playing big-time politics. One misstep, and she’d be back in Shadowfall, alone, unprotected and now marked as a traitor because of all the wrong reasons.
She found Silas in the parking bay, leaning against the side of his truck. Black at all edges. He looked like he escaped hell and was waiting for the next alarm.
He drew her into the dark before she could say anything. He smelled of earth and smoke, the forest. She closed her eyes.
“You okay?” he asked low.
“I pissed him off.” She shrugged. “Looks like race only matters when politics are involved and they have something to prove, PEACE liaison reminded me.”
He frowned. “That true?”
A shred of guilt hummed through. He’d trusted her to play this bigger game. She flubbed. “Yeah.”
Silas’s jaw clenched. “They’ll regret shitting on you.”
She bit her lip. “I get why I had to be the one to come talk, but this? I’m not made to do politics with a civil tongue.”
He opened his mouth to respond, then took her hand instead. His fingers strong around hers. She squeezed back.
“Let it burn,” he said. “We’ll make sure voices get heard.”
She nodded, leaning into him. “Promise?”
He brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “Promise.”
Later that evening, everything in court felt quieter than usual. Firelight flickered in the great room by an old hearth, fireplaces refitted to keep part of modern warmth. She and Silas had been there with Sonya and Landon across the way, maps spread, voices low and urgent.
They’d traded intel on the weapon caches, shuttle routes, off-grid cells pushing arms north. Landon had assigned Ava as primary communicator with PEACE and Silas had given her the nod of confidence in front of Sonya and the court’s eyes.
But now the liaison’s words echoed in her mind like a claw on wood.
Silas sat close, his shoulder grazed hers as they watched misinformation bubble across the screen. She felt half relieved he hadn’t said anything and half angry he let stuff slide.
The heart of a human diplomat, she thought. She wasn’t built to play silent and docile.
He slid a glance her way. “You okay?”
“Fair game, apparently.”
He frowned. “Don’t let that stop you.”
She turned to him. “But I don’t want to be some… show pony.”
He shook his head. “You’re a voice. Not a trophy.”
Her throat tightened. She leaned into him then, instinct. He draped his arm over her shoulder. She tucked under it.
They watched land nav routes run across the map together. Plot points that meant life or death.
“And Gideon’s Torch?”
He stiffened. “You think they’re moving tonight.”
She swallowed. “I have heard… rumors.”
He gently squeezed her shoulder. “Then we’re ready.”
They fell silent as Landon introduced next steps to the assembled advisors. She sensed tension.
Silas caught her gaze, soft but firm. He mouthed: keep going.
After the session broke, Sonya pulled Ava aside, her pregnant form steady and strong under the pale chandelier.
“You did right by yourself,” she whispered. “Do not let them shake you. That spine is why you’re here.”
Ava nodded, tears she refused to cry steaming her eyes. “It felt… primal.”
Sonya gave a small, bristled laugh. “Human truth is brutal. We respect it.”
She squeezed Ava’s arm then left her to Silas.
They walked the courtyard toward the greenhouse. Rain had fallen during the meeting. The cold seeped in, but they didn’t care. They needed clarity.
Silas swiped his sleeve across his jacket. “You want to talk more?”
Ava twirled a loose strand of her braid. “I feel… unwelcome.”
“Not to me.”
“I know.” She sat on a wet bench at the hollowed fountain. Water pooled around its cracked stone sculpture. Moonlight filtered across the clouds.
He crouched beside her.
Ava buried her face in her hands. “I just want to matter. Not because I’m human, or some political stunt, but because I earned it.”
That stripped the front out of his mind.
He reached out. She paused, then tipped her head up. He brushed rain off her hair. “You earned it.” He kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes.
His lips found hers, warm, sure. Soft grew the wonder of comfort, desperate comfort.
She pushed him back slightly, just enough to see his face. Her eyes so deep and brimming with everything: wanting, fear, midnight.
He cradled her face. “I want you in this. Fully.”
She nodded, mouth parting on her lips.
He leaned in slow, pushing back all the lies they’d buried. Grounded in rain and wood and the moment they chose.
She surrendered. Fires arced inside him. But the rain washed away pride, fear, ego. It was just two bodies, two hearts breaking open.
When they finally broke apart, the sky cracked with thunder. She traced his scarred jaw. “I want you too.”
He kissed her one more time, gentle, solid. Belief in his hands.
Security lights flickered and the breeze shifted cold again. Silas wrapped Ava in his arms, forehead to forehead. Her braid soaked, her jacket dripping, her eyes quiet but present.
They stayed in the quiet, two hearts forging past the politics, past the lies. In the rain and firelight, they began becoming something stronger with the same code of loyalty but stitched now with savage faith in each other.
And as the world plunged deeper into chaos, they had each other. For survival and for love.