VEX’S POV Hours later, I pushed through the reinforced blast doors, and immediately, I searched for one scent.
Oil.
Frost.
And home.
I found her beneath a transport vehicle and “If you hit that suspension any harder,” I called out, “you’re going to break it before the Syndicate gets the chance.” The pneumatic wrench stopped, and a pair of boots appeared first, and Zasha slid out from beneath the vehicle with grease smeared across her cheek, and her grin appeared the second she saw me.
“Vex.” My wolf immediately settled as It always did.
“You’re late.” “I know.” “You said twenty minutes.” She complained.
“It became forty.” I huffed in response.
“Which means something went wrong.” She pointed out.
“Everything went wrong.” I chuckled.
“Fair.” Zasha stood and tossed the wrench onto a nearby workbench.
“You look tired.” “I am.” “You look angry.” She added.
“I’m always angry.” “More angry than usual.” She whispered.
I sighed.
“Micah delivered his report.” That got her attention immediately.
“The Apex?” Zasha crossed her arms.
“Tell me everything.” “You really want everything?” “I’ve been stuck under a transport for eight hours.” “Fair point.” She grabbed my hand.
“Start talking.” I allowed her to pull me toward a quieter corner of the bay, and around us, workers continued moving equipment.
“Micah confirmed it,” I said.
“The bond?” “The bond.” Zasha whistled softly.
“That’s bad.” “I don’t think it is.” “You don’t?” “No.” She studied me.
“That’s a dangerous opinion coming from an Alpha.” “It’s an honest one.” I confessed.
Zasha leaned against a crate.
“So how bad is it?” I considered the question and then answered honestly.
“They aren’t fighting it anymore.” Her eyes widened.
“Seriously?” I nodded.
“They’ve stopped treating the Lock like a prison.” “Damn.” “Damn is right.” I snickered.
“What does Koro think?” “I don’t know.” “You usually know.” “Not this time.” Zasha frowned.
“That’s worrying.” “It is.” “Because?” “Because I can’t tell where Koro ends and Rujin begins anymore.” I pointed out.
She stared at me.
“That synced?” “That synced.” A long silence followed, and finally, she muttered: “The Board must be terrified.” I barked a laugh.
“Terrified doesn’t begin to cover it.” “Vance?” “Furious.” “Good.” “Extremely.” “Even better.” I couldn’t help smiling.
“You’ve always hated him.” “He charges children for oxygen.” “Fair.” “He deserves worse.” “Also, fair.” Zasha’s expression darkened.
“How’s Nara?” “Alive.” “Thank the winter.” She nodded.
“For now.” Her smile vanished.
“What happened?” “Lira reached her.” “Good.” “She installed the secondary power line,” I explained to Zasha “Good.” “She also discovered three emergency disconnect orders already filed under Vance’s authority.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and Zasha’s eyes narrowed.
“He already planned to use her.” “Yes.” “Bastard.” “Agreed.” She clenched her fists.
“I want five minutes alone with him.” “Only five?” “Fine.
Ten.” “That’s more realistic.” A mechanic nearby snorted and Zasha pointed at him.
“You heard nothing.” “I heard nothing.” He nodded in a panic.
“Good.” The mechanic immediately vanished.
I shook my head.
“They’re scared of you.” “They should be.” “I’m supposed to be the scary one.” “You growl.” “You weld battle tanks.” “Fair.” Zasha smirked, and then her expression softened.
“What about Koro?” “What about him?” “How did he react?” I hesitated, and that alone told her enough.
“Oh.” “Yeah.” “Oh.” “He nearly froze an entire security corridor.” “That bad?” “Worse.” “For Nara?” “For Nara.” Zasha looked away.
“I would’ve done the same.” “I know.” “So would’ve you.” I couldn’t argue and because she was right.
For a moment we stood together listening to the sounds of the bay and eventually Zasha spoke again.
“Do you remember when Koro was fifteen?” I smiled despite myself.
“The food riot?” “The food riot.” “He stole three weeks of ration vouchers.” “To buy medicine.” “For Nara.” “He got caught.” “He punched the guard.” “He got thrown through a wall.” “He still escaped.” I laughed.
“He climbed three sectors with a broken arm.” “He carried the medicine the entire way.” We both fell silent.
“He’s always been stubborn,” Zasha whispered.
“That’s one word for it.” “What’s your word?” “Disaster.” She laughed.
“Accurate.” The laughter faded.
“You know,” she said quietly, “most people only see what he became.” I looked at her.
“But?” “They don’t remember what he was.” I nodded slowly.
“A kid.” “A terrified kid.” “A kid trying to save his sister.” “Exactly.” Her eyes glistened slightly.
“He never asked for any of this.” “No.” “He never asked to become a weapon.” “No.” “He never asked to become a symbol.” “No.” “And now half the lower sectors treat him like a legend.” I sighed.
“Legends are usually built from suffering.” “That’s the problem.” Neither of us spoke because neither of us had a counterargument and eventually Zasha looked up.
“Do you think he’s happy?” The question caught me off guard.
“Happy?” “Yeah.” “That’s not a word I expected.” “Answer it.” I looked toward the ceiling toward the distant levels above and toward the Apex.
And I remembered Micah’s report and the way he described them, the way Rujin had stood in front of Koro and Koro had stood beside him and the way they synced together and the feelings that rose in the room between the two of them.
“I think he’s found something.” Zasha watched me carefully.
“That’s not what I asked.” “No.” “So answer.” I sighed and then smiled in response and stated “A little.” Her expression softened.
“A little?” “Maybe.” “I’ll take maybe.” She stepped closer.
“Do you trust Rujin?” The question surprised me even more.
“That’s complicated.” “Everything is complicated.” “Fair.” She waited and I eventually answered.
“No.” She blinked.
“No?” “I don’t trust him.” “But?” “I trust how Micah stated he looks at Koro.” Understanding crossed her face.
“Oh.” “Yeah.” “Oh.” Exactly, because there was a difference.
I didn’t trust the Dragon Don or the sovereign that he was.
I didn’t trust the man who had spent years serving the system, but I trusted the look Micah described.
The panic.
The fear.
Zasha squeezed my hand.
“You think he loves him.” I laughed.
“You’re very direct.” “Answer the question.” “Yes.” Her grin widened.
“And Koro?” I groaned.
“Why are you doing this to me?” “Because it’s funny.” “You’re impossible.” “And yet you married me.” A fair point.
“Yes,” I admitted.
Her smile became triumphant.
“I knew it.” “You know nothing.” “I know everything.” “You absolutely do not.” “I do.” “You really don’t.” “I do.” I leaned forward.
“You are unbearable.” She kissed me, a warm, sweet, brief yet perfect kiss.
When she pulled away, she looked entirely too pleased with herself.
“Still unbearable?” “Especially unbearable.” “Good.” A voice suddenly echoed across the bay.
“Alpha!” We both turned.
One of the scouts was running toward us, breathing hard, and the bay immediately quieted.
“What is it?” I asked.
The scout stopped.
“Lira checked in.” Zasha stiffened.
“Nara?” “Alive.” Relief swept through the room, and the scout continued.
“But there’s a problem.” Of course, there was.
“There always is.” The scout nodded.
“Security around the clinic just doubled.” My jaw tightened.
“Vance?” “Most likely.” “Numbers?” “Two Purge squads.” “Damn.” “That’s not all.” I exchanged a glance with Zasha.
“Keep talking.” “The Board authorized emergency lockdown protocols.” The entire bay went silent.
Every wolf stopped moving, and the mechanic stopped working, and all the conversation died.
The scout swallowed.
“The lockdown starts at dawn.” Zasha cursed, and even I cursed.
Several mechanics cursed, and one elderly captain cursed so creatively that even I was impressed.
The scout waited.
“What does that mean?” someone asked.
I answered.
“It means tomorrow just became today.” Then Zasha stepped forward, and her voice cut through the room like a blade.
“How long?” “Six hours.” “Only six?” “Yes.” She looked at me, and our eyes clashed, and we both reached the same conclusion instantly that War had arrived early.
Around us, the pack sensed, and even I could feel it.
Like electricity before lightning.
Like frost before a blizzard.
Like blood before battle.
Zasha squeezed my hand one final time, and her playful smile disappeared.
The master mechanic vanished, and the mate vanished, and only the Iron-Paw remained.
“Looks like your hour just got stolen, Alpha.” I nodded.
“Looks like it.” She released my hand.
“Then let’s go start a revolution.” Around us, engines roared to life and Wolves began shouting orders, mechanics sprinted toward transport columns, weapons were loaded, and armor was fastened.
The entire engineering bay transformed into a living machine of war.
And as I watched the pack mobilize, I couldn’t stop thinking about the Apex, about Koro and Rujin.
Their impossible bond tying fire to frost, and the Board had moved first, which meant the city of Kryos was about to learn a very dangerous lesson.
You could starve wolves.
You could chain them.
You could freeze them.
You could even build an empire on their backs, but eventually the winter always came for its debts, and tonight, winter was bringing fire with it.
We had been ready for years, but this time, with Koro away from us, it felt different.
” I hope nothing goes wrong ” I whispered, and heard the chuckle that came from Zasha that was filled with humour and danger at the same time.
Give me more motivation!