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Chapter nineteen

Annabella

My heart thundered against my ribs as we stepped into Simon’s office, the familiar space both comforting and intimidating.

After the Gideon disaster, after Lydia’s pointed comments about my leadership, after Lucas demanding more money I didn’t have—I needed this meeting to go perfectly. I needed Simon to still believe in me.

Simon turned slowly, taking his time. I studied him, seeing what Felix would be seeing, meeting him for the first time—average height and build, unremarkable features that somehow commanded attention, anyway.

Light brown hair touched with gray at the temples, neatly combed.

An expensive, well-tailored dark suit. Yet there was something in his bearing—an absolute certainty, an unquestioned expectation of deference—that filled any room he was in.

But it was his eyes that always got to me.

Gray, sharp, constantly assessing, but capable of such warmth when he was pleased with me.

“Annabella.”

The way he said my name sent relief flooding through me—like coming home after a long, difficult journey. There was no anger in his tone, no disappointment. Just that familiar fondness that made something inside my chest unclench.

“Simon.” I stepped forward, fighting the urge to close the distance between us completely.

Professional boundaries. I was a team leader, not some desperate child seeking approval.

I inhaled his scent, a combination of dry cement dust cut with a dash of lemon, and his answering smile was small but genuine.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

The gentle criticism stung, though his tone remained pleasant. We were exactly on time, but somehow, I still felt like I’d disappointed him. I should have anticipated traffic better, should have left earlier.

“I’m sorry. The traffic was—”

“No matter.” His hand brushed my arm—just briefly—and my anxiety settled. “You’re here now.”

He gestured toward Felix, and I straightened, suddenly remembering why we were here. “This is Felix Masters, our new recruit.”

Simon’s pale eyes assessed him in that way that made me suddenly protective. Felix was mine—part of my crew—and I needed Simon to see his value, to approve of my judgment in recruiting him.

“Mr. Masters,” Simon said, moving toward the seating area with that elegant grace I’d always admired, the way he occupied space as if it had been designed specifically for him. “Join me. Drinks?”

I watched as he moved to the bar, noting the way his fingers briefly touched one of the platinum cuff links on his left wrist—a gesture I’d observed countless times over the years. His tell that he was thinking, calculating.

“Whiskey, if you have it,” Felix replied, settling into an armchair. He didn’t perch nervously like most people did in Simon’s presence—he claimed the space, one arm draped loosely over the chair’s edge. “Something tells me you don’t keep the cheap stuff.”

“You have a discerning eye, Mr. Masters,” Simon said as he poured from a crystal decanter, the hint of approval in his voice making my shoulders loosen fractionally.

Simon settled into his chair opposite us, and I automatically adjusted my posture to mirror his—spine straight, shoulders back, hands folded.

“Annabella speaks highly of your capabilities,” Simon began. “I understand you are originally from the northern territories?”

“Marshwood area,” Felix confirmed, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Though that Pack doesn’t exist anymore, thanks to the Council.”

I watched Simon’s expression carefully, hunting for any flicker of approval or concern. His face remained neutral, a perfect mask, but I caught the slight nod—he was testing Felix, and so far, Felix was passing.

“Ah, yes. Marshwood. Their territory bordered Hudson Falls, if I recall correctly?”

I kept my face blank. It was a test. Simon was probing Felix’s back story. It wasn’t anything different from what I’d done in the car on the way over, but Simon’s version carried consequences I couldn’t control.

“No, sir. We were between Aspen Falls and the Clearwater River. Hudson Falls is under Red Ridge Pack territory.”

Relief flooded through me as Felix answered without hesitation, his voice steady. Simon nodded slightly, and I caught the faintest hint of approval in his expression.

“And after Marshwood?”

“Tried a few Packs. None stuck. Eventually figured out Pack life wasn’t for me.” Felix shrugged. “Turns out I’m better at taking orders when they make sense.”

“And our orders make sense to you?” Simon leaned forward slightly, his attention focused entirely on Felix now.

“Taking down the Council? They destroyed my Pack, forced me to live as a rogue while Pack Shifters got all the privileges. Yeah, orders to give them a bit of their own medicine make perfect sense.”

Simon studied Felix for a long moment, then smiled. “I am glad to hear it. We need people with your perspective.”

He turned to me, and his demeanor shifted subtly, becoming warmer, more personal. “Annabella, you’ve done well bringing in Mr. Masters. It’s selections like these that remind me why I entrusted you with such an important role in our organization.”

The praise hit me like sunlight after days of storm clouds, but something in his tone made me pause. There was an emphasis on entrusted that felt deliberate, weighted with meaning I couldn’t quite grasp.

“However,” Simon continued, his fingers finding those platinum cuff links again, rotating one a precise quarter turn, “I’ve been hearing some concerns about recent operational focus.”

My stomach twisted, acid rising in my throat. The back of my neck went hot, then cold. I fought the urge to lower my eyes, to show submission.

“Calloway was an anomaly,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could temper them with more care. “We were caught off-guard by his capabilities, but I’ve already identified where our approach needs adjustment—”

“It’s not just about Calloway.” Simon’s voice remained gentle, but there was steel underneath. “Some are concerned that your judgment may be compromised. That something might be affecting your tactical decision-making.”

Heat crept up my neck. Lydia. Of course. She’d gone over my head, questioning my leadership directly to Simon.

Simon’s gaze flicked to Felix, then back to me, and the message was unmistakable. This is why he’d wanted to meet Felix. He wanted to know about the person who was supposedly taking my focus away from our mission.

I had to shut this down. Now.

“My focus remains solely on what we are trying to achieve. Nothing, no one, is going to make me deviate from that.”

“Good.” Simon’s voice finally carried satisfaction, but wrapped within it, a warning hummed like a distant storm. “Glad to hear it. Tell me, did Vivienne update you on the Council developments?”

“Yes, she mentioned the missing Sam Shaw.”

He moved closer, and I felt that familiar flutter of being chosen, being special. “I wondered if you had any contacts left in the Three Rivers Pack. Maybe someone who can provide you with information on this Shaw.”

My stomach clenched. Sofia and Jase Miller. My cousins.

The smart thing would be to offer them up. They were Three Rivers Pack; they would know about Shaw. Simon would be pleased with my resourcefulness, my willingness to use every asset available.

But something protective flared in my chest at the thought of dragging them into this world of shadows and manipulation. They were safe in Three Rivers. I wouldn’t drag them in to this.

“Sorry,” I heard myself say, meeting Simon’s gaze directly. “There’s no one I can think of who could help us.”

For just a moment, something flickered across Simon’s features—displeasure, quickly masked. His fingers twitched toward those platinum cuff links, but he didn’t touch them.

“No? Oh well, it was just a thought.” His tone was light, but I caught the slight hardening around his eyes—a promise that this conversation wasn’t over, that my failure to provide what he wanted wouldn’t be forgotten.

“The Council is weak, divided,” he continued, “but we must guard against any last-ditch attempt on their part to break us before we can destroy them.”

“If they’re weak, it’s a good time for us to hit them harder,” I said. I leaned forward, desperate to reclaim lost ground. “The Council is vulnerable right now. We should do more than just take out individual members—we should launch a full-scale attack while they’re distracted.”

Simon raised a hand, his fingers almost but not quite touching my shoulder in a silent command for restraint.

“You must be patient, Annabella. Strategic strikes are still more effective at the moment than grand gestures. The Council is stretched thin dealing with the ripple crisis. Picking them off one by one will eventually reach a tipping point, and then we can strike when we have the certainty of victory.”

He tapped his signet ring lightly against his glass. “Remember, Annabella, this is why I chose you to lead this team. Your passion is important, but your willingness to follow the broader strategy I’ve designed is essential.”

The reminder of his faith in me should have felt good. Instead, it felt like a leash being tightened. But I nodded anyway, because what else could I do?

“It’s just… the ripple situation is getting worse,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

“All Shifters are being hit hard, and the Council is proving useless to help. People are dying while we play the long game. If we got rid of the Council, we could finally intervene. Do something to protect them from this drug.”

Simon moved closer, his attention focused entirely on me again. His fingers brushed my arm in a light, deliberate touch, and I felt my anxiety begin to ease despite myself.

“Your concern for those people is admirable, Annabella. It is precisely why I value your perspective.”

The praise settled over me like a warm blanket, and I felt my breathing deepen. This was why I fought—not just for Ellie, not just for a better world, but for moments like this. When Simon looked at me with approval, when he acknowledged my worth, I felt like I could accomplish anything.

“However…” He withdrew his hand, and the absence of contact left me suddenly cold, craving the return of that connection. “It is a complicated situation. Rushing into confrontation now would undo months of careful work. We must be strategic. Trust that I have considered all possibilities.”

“But—”

“Annabella,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “My coven is investigating the ripple situation at the highest levels. We believe we may have identified the person behind it all, but verification will take time.”

Relief crashed through me in an overwhelming wave, washing away doubt and leaving behind shame at my lack of faith.

Of course Simon was already working on the ripple problem.

Of course he had a plan more sophisticated than my crude suggestion of direct confrontation.

I should have trusted him from the beginning instead of allowing emotion to cloud my judgment.

His gaze shifted to Felix, then back to me. “Besides, I have a new assignment for your team. One of critical importance that requires your unique talents.”

I straightened immediately. This was it—my chance to prove that the Calloway failure had been an anomaly, that I deserved the faith he’d placed in me. That I was still worthy of being chosen.

“Who’s the target?”

Simon’s smile was sharp, satisfied. “Talia Johnson.”