#Chapter 114: Two–Way Street
#Chapter 114: Two–Way Street
(Siena POV)
A violent pounding on my door jolts me awake, shattering the stillness of night. I bolt upright, heart hammering against my ribs as my senses snap to full alertness.
“Siena!” Raiden’s voice carries through the wood, urgent and strained. “Wake up! We’re under attack!”
I leap from bed, adrenaline flooding my veins. Another crash against the door tells me he’s not waiting for my response.
The wood splinters as Raiden bursts through, his powerful frame outlined in the doorway. Blood streaks his face, his clothes torn and disheveled. The scent of battle clings to him–smoke, blood, and something acrid I don’t recognize.
“Intruders,” he growls, midnight eyes scanning my room for threats. “At least twenty of them breached the northern perimeter. They’ve disabled the security systems and communications.”
“How-” I begin, but an explosion cuts me off, the floor trembling beneath my feet.
“No time,” Raiden snaps, already moving toward the window to assess the situation outside. “The settlement’s under direct attack. Zion’s leading the first defense line, but they’re well–armed and organized.”
My wolf rises to the surface, hackles raised at the threat to our territory. Through the window, I can see flames rising from buildings near the northern boundary, the night sky painted orange with their glow.
“You should be in my quarters, under guard.”
“Absolutely not! Whatever is coming, let it, Raiden. I am not playing these games.”
“Siena,” his voice is low. It’s different somehow. “I…I know what youthin kof me, and you are right to. I get it. But this, this is no game. This is your safety as my Luna–The luna of Silverfang and Windhowl.”
“Sien! There’s Rogues! They’ve breached. They’re coming. For you, for me, for all of us!”
He’s shaken. This isn’t like him. The loss earlier today has siphoned his confidence.
“Ok, Ok. Fine. But I will remain here.”
“How will I-”
“May remain in the living room quarters. I will remain in my room, on my bed, for which I now earn. Good night, Raiden.”
I close the door behind me.
Zion. On the front line. Raiden here, with me.
This is so very backwards, but then again, I reason, so has all of this. From start to finish, the swapping of loyalties, love, or friendships is disregarded.
It
was a natural cycle of chaos, but I
as
too tired to care.
I lie awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling, my pulse thrumming unevenly each time I sense Raiden shift quietly outside my
door.
Moonlight filters softly through gauzy curtains, bathing the room in faint silver hues.
Sleep stubbornly evades me tonight, driven away by the echo of his startling revelation–that he has anonymously
supported my Italian projects all these years.
The idea unsettles me deeply, forcing me to reconsider assumptions I’ve clung to, beliefs about his indifference that have shaped my carefully constructed independence.
With a frustrated sigh, I sit up, reaching for my tablet on the bedside table.
I open financial records quietly, scrolling methodically through donation logs. My heart quickens as subtle patterns appear clearly before me.
Though I am undoubtedly grateful in small increments–throughout my absence, I have done great things with these resources bestowed upon me–there is a small nagging part of me that is annoyed.
These are my ventures, my projects designed to uplift our wolves. Raiden shouldn’t have done this, good intentions or not.
The financial records glow blue–white in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across my bedroom ceiling. I should have turned off my tablet hours ago, but sleep feels impossibly distant tonight.
January 15th: Anonymous donation, $75,000.
I shift against the pillows, the sheets cool against my bare legs. Three in the morning, and I’m still chasing this ghost through digital paperwork, following a hunch that’s kept me awake since dinner.
March 4th: Anonymous donation, $120,000.
The literacy center. I remember standing in that empty storefront, calculating how many months of rent we could afford,
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#Chapter 114: Two–Way Street
when the notification had pinged on my phone. I’d dropped to the dusty floor, certain there’d been some mistake.
June 27th: Anonymous donation, $94,500.
My finger traces the identical routing numbers on each transaction. Not identical enough to flag any systems, but distinctive enough when you’re specifically looking for a pattern. The donor had been careful–meticulous, even.
My breath catches as the pieces lock together.
Raiden.
The tablet slips from my suddenly trembling fingers, landing softly on the duvet. Outside, an owl calls into the night, its lonely voice carrying through my half–open window.
My wolf stirs restlessly inside me, ears perked hopefully despite caution’s lingering whispers.
I roll onto my side, pulling my knees toward my chest.
The memory of our last real conversation burns like acid–the cold fury in my voice as I accused him of trying to overshadow my accomplishments, of never believing I could succeed independently.
Suddenly, with brutal swiftness, the world plunges into darkness.
The gentle hum of electricity vanishes instantly, replaced by an eerie silence.
My pulse leaps, and my instincts immediately sharpen with urgent clarity.
I leap quickly from bed, adrenaline flooding fiercely through my veins.
Emergency systems fail–alarms are silent, communication channels are dead, and there are clear signs of sabotage from within.
My wolf snarls protectively beneath my skin, hackles raised instinctively, “Call for Raiden, Call for the Alpha!”
“I will do no such thing!” I snap back, knowing that now, of all times, I will not let one step falter.
Suddenly, footsteps thunder urgently outside my door, followed instantly by the wood splintering violently inward.
I spin sharply, my heart pounding fiercely. My breath releases softly in relief as Raiden bursts inside, tension etched deeply into every line of his powerful frame.
“Siena–are you alright?” he demands roughly, midnight eyes blazing fiercely with protective urgency.
I open the bedroom door. “Power’s cut, communications disrupted–someone knew our security systems intimately,” I reply sharply, strategically focused despite inner turmoil.
Emergency lighting flickers faintly to life, casting unsettling crimson shadows across polished surfaces.
He crosses the room in three quick strides, his presence immediately filling the space beside me. “What is it?”
I carefully extract the small device, no larger than a button, with a nearly invisible wire trailing behind it. “This is what it is.” My hand trembles slightly as I hold it up. “A surveillance device. Someone’s been listening to me. Watching me.”
Raiden takes it from my palm, examining it with narrowed eyes. His jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath the skin. “What…Raiden, what is this?” I press, though we both know the answer.
He places the device on the desk, his movements deliberately controlled. “Military grade. Not something you’d find in a regular electronics store.”
Anger coils sharply inside me, rising like a tide. “They’ve watched me. Invaded my privacy.” My voice drops to edged with danger. “They think they can intimidate me? Drive me away?”
I stand suddenly, pacing toward the window. “I won’t be driven from my home by fear.”
Raiden’s head lifts, surprise flickering gently across his features. “Your home?”
a
growl,
I hadn’t meant to say it–this admission I’ve stubbornly resisted for months. Windhowl Pack territory. His territory. My home.
“Yes,” I say, refusing to backtrack now. “My home. And I won’t let them take it from me.”
He approaches slowly, as if afraid I might bolt. “When did you start thinking of Windhowl as home?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, looking out at the mountains beyond the window.
His hand hovers near my shoulder, not quite touching. “Siena, I promise you–we’ll find who did this. Every corner of this
house will be swept, every inch of pack territory secured.”
“You can’t watch everything all the time,” I say, suddenly tired.
“No,” he agrees. “But I can ensure you’re never alone and vulnerable.”
I turn to face him fully. “I’m not some helpless wolf, Raiden. I have claws and teeth.”
“I know your strength better than most,” he says quietly. “I’ve seen you in combat training. But even the strongest wolf can be taken by surprise.”
#Chapter 114: Two–Way Street
His eyes hold mine, something fierce and protective burning in their depths. “No one will harm you–not while I live.” The intensity in his voice catches me off guard. This isn’t merely an Alpha protecting a pack member.
This is something more primal, more personal.
“You can’t promise that,” I whisper.
“I can,” he counters. “And I do.”
His fingers finally bridge the gap between us, brushing a strand of hair from my face with unexpected gentleness. “Now, let‘
s find how many more of these devices they’ve planted. Whoever’s listening has heard enough.”
I nod, the anger reshaping itself into resolve. “And then?”
A dangerous smile curves his mouth. “And then we give them something to fear. We should move to the command center. It’s secure.”
“Now?”
“Especially now,” he insists. “Whoever planted this might be listening to us this very moment.”
The thought sends a chill down my spine. I grab my phone from the nightstand and slip a sweater over my tank top.
“Lead the way.”
