KYLEN
Holt and Jakson knocked on the door of my study, their scent already familiar before they even stepped inside.
“So?” I asked, not bothering to look up from the whiskey glass in my hand.
“We’re sure she’s at Duskridge,” Jakson said. “But we still haven’t seen her.”
I raised my head at that.
“So you’re guessing,” I snapped, voice low and laced with warning.
Holt shifted on his feet, but Jakson held firm. “No, Alpha. The signs are all there—they had increased patrol, and there were new guards around the border, and a lockdown tighter than usual. They’re hiding something.”
Of course they were.
I took a breath, then gave a small nod. “You did well. Take today off.”
They blinked at me, surprised, but neither of them dared argue. I waved them off with a flick of my hand. The moment
