Chapter 46: The New Alpha

The penthouse had never felt like a cage until Viktor’s voice slithered through the speakers. Elena stood frozen in the kitchen, a glass of water halfway to her lips, as Damon's expression locked down across the room. The intercom crackled again, Viktor’s words laced with mockery. “I know you’re there, Alpha. I’ve come to collect what’s mine.” Damon’s eyes met hers, a storm of warning and something else—fear? No, that wasn’t in his nature. But the slight tremor in his hand as he set down his coffee betrayed him. “Stay here,” he ordered, already moving toward the door. “Like hell I will,” Elena muttered, setting the glass down and following. She’d spent weeks gathering evidence against the Crimson Fang, risking her life to expose their trafficking network. She wasn’t about to cower while some new alpha threw threats around. The lobby of the Blackwood Tower was a battlefield of tension. Viktor stood in the center, flanked by two wolves with dead eyes. He was younger than Elena expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a scar that split his left eyebrow and a smile that didn’t reach his cold gaze. He wore a tailored suit that couldn’t hide the predator beneath. “Ah, the famous Elena Vance,” Viktor said, his voice dripping with false charm. “I’ve heard so much about you. The little rat who stole my predecessor’s secrets.” Elena forced herself to meet his gaze, her heart hammering. “Your predecessor is dead. Maybe you should take the hint.” Viktor’s smile widened. “Brave words for a woman who’s nothing but leverage.” He turned to Damon. “I’ll make this simple. Give me the evidence she stole, and I’ll let you both live. Refuse, and I’ll tear this city apart until I find it—and her.” Damon stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not taking anything from her. And you’re not welcome in my territory.” “Your territory?” Viktor laughed, a harsh sound that echoed off the marble floors. “You’re barely holding your pack together, Blackwood. I heard about the betrayal. Your own people are turning against you.” Elena saw the flicker of pain in Damon’s eyes before he masked it. The mole. The poisoned loyalty. She’d been so focused on the Crimson Fang that she hadn’t considered the enemy within. “I challenge you,” Damon said, his voice steady. “A duel. For her freedom.” Viktor’s eyebrows rose. “You’d risk your life for a woman who’s already sold herself to you?” “She’s not property,” Damon growled. “And you’ll learn that the hard way.” Elena’s heart stopped. A duel. Werewolf law allowed an alpha to challenge another for rights over a disputed person or territory. But Viktor was younger, stronger, and clearly ruthless. Damon was still recovering from the poison that had nearly killed him weeks ago. “No,” Elena said, stepping between them. “I won’t let you fight for me.” Damon’s hand closed around her arm, pulling her back. “This isn’t your choice.” “It is my choice,” she snapped, turning to face Viktor. “You want the evidence? It’s not here. I’ve hidden it in a place you’ll never find. But I’ll tell you this—your pack is rotten. Your predecessor was selling children. And I have proof that connects you to the trafficking ring.” Viktor’s smile faltered. “You’re bluffing.” “Am I?” Elena pulled out her phone, showing him a screenshot of a transaction record. “This is from your own account. I know where you keep your files. And I’ve already sent copies to a dozen safe houses. If anything happens to me, they go public.” For one suspended second, Viktor’s composure cracked. His eyes darted to his men, then back to Elena. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” “Then leave,” Damon said. “Before I make you.” Viktor’s lips curled. “Fine. But this isn’t over. You have twenty-four hours to hand over the evidence, or I’ll activate the mole in your pack. You know the one. He’s already set the trap. Refuse, and your entire pack dies.” He turned and walked out, his men following. The doors closed with a heavy thud, leaving Elena and Damon alone in the echoing lobby. Damon exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. “That was reckless.” “He was going to kill you,” Elena said, her voice shaking. “I couldn’t let that happen.” “You don’t trust me to protect you?” “I trust you. But I won’t be a damsel in distress.” She met his eyes, defiance and fear warring inside her. “We need to find the mole. Before Viktor makes his move.” Damon nodded, his expression grim. “Let’s get back to the pack house. We have work to do.” They drove in silence, the city lights blurring past. Her thoughts snapped through every possibility. Viktor knew about the mole. Which meant the mole was close. Someone Damon trusted. Someone who had access to the pack’s resources. When they arrived, the pack house was quiet. Too quiet. Damon’s beta, Kael, met them at the door, his face pale. “Alpha, there’s a problem. The water supply—someone’s poisoned it. Three wolves are already sick.” Elena’s ice threaded through her pulse. Viktor’s warning. The mole had already acted. Damon’s fists clenched. “Find the antidote. Now.” Kael shook his head. “We don’t know what poison it is. The healer is trying, but…” Elena stepped forward, her mind sharp. “I might know. The Crimson Fang used a neurotoxin on their enemies. I saw the formula in Aldric’s files. If I can get to the vault, I can find the antidote.” Damon’s eyes met hers, a mix of gratitude and worry. “You’d risk going back there?” “I’d risk anything to save your pack,” she said softly. “They’re my pack now too.” For the space of a breath, something shifted between them. A bridge built in the fire of crisis. Damon’s hand found hers, squeezing gently. “Then let’s move.” But as they turned toward the garage, Elena’s phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “Tick tock, Elena. The poison spreads fast. And I’m watching.” She looked up, scanning the shadows. Somewhere in the darkness, the mole was waiting. And time was running out.