YOURS TRULY

Chapter 4: The Vanguard’s Trap

The alliance with Silas Luther wasn't just a declaration of war; it was a masterclass in corporate and tactical sabotage. Over the next forty-eight hours, the Winston Tactical Firm began to experience a series of catastrophic, unexplainable failures.

Their primary offshore funding accounts were frozen due to "anonymous compliance red flags," and three of their highest-paying private security contracts with the city's elite human syndicates were abruptly canceled and transferred to Luther Global Logistics.

I sat in the passenger seat of Silas’s sleek, armored phantom sedan, my fingers flying across the holographic interface of an independent terminal. We were parked on a ridge overlooking the eastern shipping docks—the primary arrival point for the Winston Firm’s illegal silver munitions shipments.

"They're taking the bait," I murmured, watching a red blip flash on my screen. "Nick just authorized a desperate, unmonitored transport to move their remaining silver reserves out of the city warehouses before the federal regulators freeze their physical assets."

Silas sat next to me, his long legs crossed, lazily swirling a glass of dark amber liquid. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes were fixed on the shipping yard below with the deadly focus of an apex predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Nick is predictable when he's backed into a corner," Silas noted, his deep voice smooth. "He relies on brute force because he lacks the intellect to navigate a chess board. He thinks this is a simple logistical issue."

"He doesn't realize I've already leaked the transport route to the local pack syndicates," I said, a cold smile touching my lips.

"The moment that truck crosses the industrial canal bridge, your enforcers will have a three-minute window to intercept the shipment before the city vanguard drones can deploy."

Silas turned his head, his molten-gold eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my skin tingle. "You are incredibly ruthless for someone raised on human bedtime stories of morality, Clara. I like it."

"Morality is a luxury for people who haven't died once," I replied smoothly, not breaking my gaze.

Before Silas could respond, a sharp, piercing alarm blared from my terminal. The red blip on the screen suddenly multiplied, turning into a cluster of flashing blue lights that rapidly surrounded the industrial canal zone.

My eyes widened as I checked the data stream. "It's a trap."

"Explain," Silas commanded, his relaxed demeanor instantly vanishing as his posture turned rigid and lethal.

"Nick didn't authorize a standard transport," I whispered, my mind racing as I analyzed the encryption codes flashing across the screen. "He used an outdated, high-frequency vanguard signature that I haven't seen since my first life. He didn't leak the route because he's stupid; he leaked it intentionally to draw out your pack enforcers. He's deployed a mobile silver-gas deployment unit on the bridge."

Silas’s jaw clenched, a low, terrifying growl vibrating through the interior of the car. "My beta patrol is already moving into the perimeter. If they detonate that gas on the enclosed bridge, none of my people will survive the cellular necrosis."

"They won't detonate it," I said, my fingers blurring across the keyboard as I initiated a direct intercept sequence. "Because I'm going to override the deployment valves. But I need to be within physical range of the vanguard command vehicle to hijack their localized server."

Silas didn't hesitate. He slammed his glass into the console holder and threw the sedan into gear. The powerful engine roared to life, the tires screeching as the armored vehicle tore down the ridge toward the industrial sector.

Within minutes, we reached the perimeter of the canal bridge. In the distance, I could see the massive, armored Winston transport truck blocked by two sleek, black SUVs belonging to Silas’s pack enforcers. Several wolves had already shifted, their massive, predatory forms leaping onto the hood of the transport, unaware of the lethal, pressurized silver gas canisters rigged underneath the chassis.

Nick stood in the secure bed of a command vehicle parked at the opposite end of the bridge, a remote detonation terminal gripped tightly in his gloved hand. A cruel, triumphant smile plastered his face.

"He's going to flip the switch," I warned, grabbing my terminal and unbuckling my seatbelt. "Silas, stop the car!"

Silas slammed on the brakes, the sedan sliding to a halt just fifty yards away from the command vehicle. "Clara, if you get out of this car, you are in the direct line of fire."

"Then cover me," I said, looking back at him.

Our eyes met, and in that split second, the fated mate bond flared between us like an invisible shield of pure adrenaline. Silas nodded, his eyes shifting completely into a blazing, terrifying gold as his claws extended from his fingertips.

I threw the door open, hit the pavement running, and dove behind a stack of industrial shipping crates. Bullets instantly riddled the metal above my head as the Winston vanguard guards spotted me.

"Hold your fire! That's Clara!" Nick’s furious voice echoed through a megaphone from the command vehicle. He marched to the edge of the truck bed, staring down at my position with unhinged rage. "Clara! You treacherous b***h! You think you can align yourself with these beasts and walk away? I am ending this tonight! I am wiping out this entire sector, and you're going to watch!"

He raised the detonation terminal, his thumb hovering over the red button.

"Nick, look down," I shouted over the roar of the wind.

He frowned, instinctively glancing at the display on his terminal. The screen wasn't showing the activation sequence for the silver gas. Instead, a bright, neon-pink logo of a stylized bow appeared on the screen, followed by a countdown timer that read: 00:02.

I had initiated a hard reverse-voltage surge through their own localized server the moment I got within thirty yards.

00:01.

"What the—" Nick gasped.

The detonation terminal exploded in his hand with a bright flash of electrical fire, sparking violently and sending him crashing backward into the bed of the truck. Simultaneously, the pressurized valves under the transport truck hissed, safely venting harmless water vapor into the air instead of the lethal silver toxin.

The Winston vanguard team panicked, their trap completely neutralized in a matter of seconds. Before they could regroup, a massive, jet-black wolf—larger and more terrifying than any creature I had ever seen—leaped over my shipping crate stronghold, roaring a battle cry that shook the very foundations of the bridge.

Silas had entered the chat.