There’s something familiar about those eyes. Something I recognize faintly in the otherworldly planes of his countenance—but I can’t place it.
“He looks a lot younger than I expected,” I mutter. “Like he’s in his late twenties, tops.”
Stark scoffs. “You know they don’t age like we do. Thatthingis centuries old.”
Shaking my head, I set the portraits aside and nod to the map of the temple. “Tell me about the layout.”
“We’ve identified three potential entry points,” Egith says, pointing. “Here, here, and here. A simultaneous assault on all three entrances is our best bet to overcome their defenses. The timing must be perfect—they’re strongest at night, but that’s also when they’re most likely to be feeding and therefore distracted.”
Stark cuts in. “They won’t be feeding all at once—they’re too smart to leave themselves open like that. There will still be guards on duty, and we don’t know how many.”
Egith nods. “If we place our scouts here and here before sunset, we should be able to track the guards and sight the rest heading out to feed. Once that happens, we’ll have a very short window to take advantage.”
As the discussion of strategy continues, I find my gaze drawn back to the portrait of Lucien Brightbane.Whydo I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before?
Stark’s hand abruptly slaps down on the image.
“Focus, Cooper,” he growls. “We move at sunset.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
That evening, from a forested ridge overlooking the temple, I stand with Stark and several other Bonded, poring over a map of the ruin below.
We’ve gone over the plan a dozen times at Stark’s command. Everyone knows their part.
The wolves will circle the temple’s outer wall to cut off escape routes while three smaller teams infiltrate through its three vulnerabilities—a crumbling section of wall, an old sewage tunnel, and a partially collapsed bell tower.
This is a time-sensitive covert operation. The strike team—both soldiers and Bonded—were chosen specifically for their superior stealth capabilities. The Bonded on each team will coordinate precisely timed attacks through their pack connection. Stark will lead one team, and two Kryptos Bonded will lead the others.
We’ve had spies watching the ruins for hours, tracking the Siphon guard rotations and sending reports back to our temporary camp here in the forest. We have the intel we need.
It’s almost time to move.
We gather on the ridge, keeping low and strictly to the shadows as dusk settles into night. The temple is a dark scarcut into the hillside below us, its narrow windows lit dimly with lamplight. My heart pounds every time I look at it, wondering if Saela is inside. If she’s hurt. Scared. Alone.
Every muscle in my body itches to move—to fight. To kill every lastmotherfuckerwho dared to take innocent children from my country.
Anassa’s anticipation radiates along our bond, too. She’s more than eager for our first taste of real battle.
Stark, meanwhile, has coordinated this whole operation.
I find myself mesmerized by him, here in this cold mountain wilderness, closed in on every side by darkness and danger.
He’s the consummate Alpha—no trace remains of the man who seemed so worried about the scars on my thighs yesterday. I almost don’t believe it happened at all, watching him now.
His aura holds none of the malice and impending violence to which I’ve become so accustomed. There’s no bellowing of commands. No bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes.
He’s centered. Calm. Completely focused. Coldly efficient.
The perpetual scowl is gone, too, which is more disconcerting than I’d like to admit. His face isridiculouslyhandsome when he’s not scowling. Beautiful, even.
This man isn’t Stark the Rawbond combat instructor, my personal tormentor. This isAlpha Stark of Daemos, the warrior who earned every one of his kill marks. The commander trusted by every soldier in the king’s army.
He turns to me as the soldiers begin making their final preparations. “You and Anassa are with me,” he says, voice pitched low. “This is your first time in Siphon territory—you follow my lead, understand? You doexactlyas I say.”
I bristle, insulted to be thrust back into the role of trainee. Haven’t I proven myself to him yet? Why does he insist on babysitting me?
“Listen to him,”says Anassa.“He knows what he’s doing.”
