The moonlight spilled across the DeLorenzo estate like liquid silver, casting long shadows that danced against the stone walls and whispering trees.
Alexander sat in his office, bathed in the soft glow of his desk lamp, his pen moving steadily over a handwritten ledger. While the modern world demanded technology, there was something meditative about putting ink to paper—a tradition instilled by their late father.
The silence was a welcome reprieve, broken only by the occasional chirping of crickets. Alexander's gaze flicked to the clock on his desk. It was nearing midnight. He paused, running a hand through his silver hair, and leaned back in his chair, staring at the thick canopy of trees beyond the glass windows.
The pack was secure for now, but the rogue attacks gnawed at him. They weren't ordinary rogues. Their movements were calculated, their strikes precise, as though someone was directing them with a greater purpose. It was a puzzle Alexander couldn't afford to leave unsolved.
The door to his office creaked open without a knock—an act only one person dared to commit.
"Alec," Alexander said without looking up, already sensing his brother's presence. "What is it?"
Alec leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The golden hue of his eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light. "The warriors are restless," he began, his voice low and steady. "They've been asking if we'll take the fight to the rogues instead of waiting for them to strike again."
Alexander raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think?"
Alec's lips twitched into the barest hint of a smirk. "I think they're right. Waiting makes us look weak. If there's a leader behind these attacks, we need to send a message."
Before Alexander could respond, another voice cut through the quiet, sharp and teasing. "Careful, Alec. You're starting to sound like me."
Ace strolled into the room, his usual air of carefree arrogance in full display. He threw himself onto the leather armchair across from Alexander's desk, one leg swinging lazily over the armrest.
"Shouldn't you be running wild in the woods?" Alec asked dryly, though his tone held no real malice.
Ace grinned, his dark eyes glittering with mischief. "I got bored. Figured I'd check in on my favorite brothers."
Alexander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can we focus, please?"
"Fine," Ace said, sitting up with exaggerated seriousness. "Let's talk about the rogues. Or better yet, let's talk about how you both need to relax. You're going to burn yourselves out before the real fight even starts."
"Noted," Alexander said curtly, though his tone carried no bite. He turned his attention back to Alec. "If we go after them, we risk playing into their hands. We don't know enough about their numbers or their leader."
"That's why we need to interrogate the captive," Alec said firmly.
"I'll handle it," Alexander replied.
"No offense, Alex, but you're better at negotiations than... persuasion," Alec countered.
Ace snorted. "Translation: Let Alec handle the dirty work while you keep your hands clean."
Alexander ignored the jab, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "Just get the information. We can't afford mistakes."
Before the conversation could continue, all three of them froze.
The air shifted, heavy and electric, as a faint breeze drifted through the open window. A scent followed—something faint, almost fragile, but unmistakably intoxicating.
Alexander stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. Alec's posture stiffened, and Ace tilted his head, his playful grin vanishing.
"Do you smell that?" Ace murmured, his voice unusually serious.
Alec nodded, his nostrils flaring. "It's faint, but... it's close."
Alexander didn't respond. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, restless and on edge. The scent was unlike anything he'd ever encountered—sweet and delicate, yet carrying a subtle, almost mournful undertone. It was… magnetic.
Without another word, the three of them moved in unison, their footsteps soundless as they left the office and headed toward the source.
The scent grew stronger as they descended the grand staircase, their senses heightened with every step. It led them through the main hall, past the wide glass doors that opened onto the forest.
"Outside," Alexander said, his voice tight with tension.
They stepped into the cool night, the moonlight illuminating their path. The scent enveloped them now, stirring something primal and possessive within each of them.
Ace was the first to shift, his dark hair giving way to sleek black fur as his wolf emerged. He let out a low growl, his amber eyes scanning the darkness. Alec followed suit moments later, his golden wolf standing tall and imposing beside his brother.
Alexander hesitated, his silver-gray eyes flickering with an otherworldly glow. "Stay sharp," he commanded, his voice a mix of man and wolf.
Together, they disappeared into the trees, their movements fluid and silent. The hunt had begun.
To Be Continued...