“He reach out?” Wraith asked.
“Yeah.”
Wraith’s jaw tightened. “Official?”
“Official enough.”
That bought us time. Not much, but some.
Grim stepped closer. “Council’s already asking questions.”
“Of course they are.”
I pushed off the desk. “Bring them in.”
They didn’t waste time filing in. No posturing. No raised voices. Just a room full of people who understood the risk, and from their faces, they didn’t like how this one was shaping up.
Grim stood by the door.
Slate leaned against the wall.
Fuse was beside Slate, using a rag to try and get grease off his hands.
Wraith stood near the window.
And of course Saint’s chair was empty.
There was a moment of silence, like they’d already had a conversation and were trying to decide who should go first.
Grim spoke first. “Kellan’s been very…” He gestured. “…everywhere.”
I lifted my eyes to him.
“He’s moving through shared spaces,” Grim clarified. “Common areas. Kitchen. Anyone on-site knows where he is.”
Slate went on without missing a beat. “Members. Families. Omegas. Anyone coming and going inside the perimeter can see him.”
Fuse shifted his weight. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“Right,” Slate said. “The plan was leverage tied to Saint.” He made a short, frustrated gesture with his hand. “Not a?—”
He stopped himself.
I said nothing.
Grim cleared his throat. “Kellan’s not being treated like normal.”
I wanted to snort and point out kidnapping wasn’t exactly normal…
“He’s not locked down,” Grim continued slowly. “He’s not being guarded except for Ember… whoisreally a guard. And he’s baking and?—”
Slate picked it up. “His only restriction is basically not going outside.”
Fuse stopped wiping his hands. “That wasn’t… was that the plan?”
“No,” Slate said, holding my gaze. “This started with leverage. Pressure on Rowan. Get Saint justice.”
I stayed quiet. I couldn’t argue they were fucking right. That didn’t mean they could change my mind.
