The Wolf Girl with Two Alpha Mates

Chapter 5 – Terms and Conditions

The conference room at Vox Security had never felt smaller.

A long table of dark wood, screens on the walls, city lights pressing against the glass like distant stars. For human clients, it was where they signed contracts for patrol routes and alarm systems. Tonight, it held three alphas, a handful of betas and enough tension to crack plaster.

Lupa took her usual seat halfway down on Riverside’s side, back to the window. Alder at the head, Mirel to his right. Across from them, Erynd and Soren. Bren sat a little further down, relaxed but alert. Northbridge’s chairs were empty for now; they preferred to dial in late and let everyone stew.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Alder began, voice calm silk over steel. “You’ve seen the preliminary reports on the killings.”

Erynd’s jaw tightened. “I’ve seen what your reports are allowed to say.” His gaze flicked to Lupa. “I’d prefer to hear from the wolves who stood in the blood.”

Her spine snapped a little straighter. Mirel’s pen made a tiny, warning tap on her notepad.

Alder didn’t bristle. “You will. After we agree on how this cooperation works.”

Of course. Terms first, truth later.

Soren steepled his fingers. “Everwood is prepared to commit scouts and a full strike team to your borders. We want access to all sites, all witnesses and full transparency regarding any… anomalies.”

His eyes brushed Lupa on that word, though his face stayed politely blank.

“Anomalies,” Kess murmured under her breath. “That’s one way to say ‘things that shouldn’t exist.’ ”

Mirel shot her a look that said behave without moving her lips.

Alder folded his hands. “Riverside accepts shared patrols and joint access. Our priority is containing the threat without exposing our world to human scrutiny.”

“Agreed,” Erynd said. “We’ve contained three incidents on our side that we suspect are connected. If these things spread toward human settlements—”

“They already have,” Lupa said before she could stop herself.

Silence clicked into place. Every gaze swung to her.

She swallowed once. “Daniel Urich wasn’t some drifter. He was on payroll. The warehouse he guarded has contracts with Northbridge’s human front. If someone decides ‘wild animal attack’ isn’t satisfying enough anymore, questions come straight back here. To us.”

Soren’s brow lifted a fraction. “You think the creature is targeting human nodes in our network.”

“I think it’s hunting along our weakest seams,” Lupa said. “Border disputes. Old scars. Places where we fought each other and then pretended it was over.” She glanced at Mirel. “The pins on your map aren’t random.”

Mirel exhaled slowly. “We’ve confirmed correlations with at least three historic conflicts. We were going to share that once—”

“Once Northbridge deigns to join us,” Kess muttered.

Right on cue, the wall screen blinked to life. Caiden Lohr’s face appeared, clean‑cut and composed, Selis just out of frame, only one graceful hand visible with a pen between her fingers.

“Apologies for the delay,” Caiden said smoothly. “Some of us still have to reassure human investors that their warehouses won’t be chewed on.”

“Working on that,” Alder said. “We were discussing joint operation terms.”

“So I heard.” Caiden’s gaze slid over the room, weighing everyone. It paused briefly, clinically, on Lupa. “And the… emotional profile of our guest?”

“Our guest?” Lupa repeated, frost creeping into her tone before she could leash it.

Caiden smiled without warmth. “The thing tearing our people apart. Every pattern you’ve shared suggests an origin rooted in past… interventions. It’s not just a monster. It’s a consequence.”

“Consequences don’t leave tracks,” Bren said mildly. “This does.”

“Some consequences grow claws,” Selis’s voice drifted in from off‑screen. “Let’s stay precise, gentlemen.”

Erynd leaned forward. “Riverside says you’ve had incidents on your side as well,” he said to Caiden. “You’ve been very quiet about them.”

“Our incidents are contained,” Caiden said. “For now. What concerns me is that every time this thing moves, it appears to resonate with one particular wolf more than any other.”

Lupa’s skin crawled. “You mean me.”

“Your betas report you feel its emotional residue,” Caiden said. “You collapsed on patrol during the last attack. You were present in the original… project that may have birthed it.” His gaze sharpened. “I don’t enjoy saying this, Lupa, but from a risk perspective, you are as central to this threat as it is to you.”

“Central,” she echoed. As if she were a faulty component in some machine.

Alder’s voice cut in, soft but edged. “She is also central to its containment. You don’t get one without the other.”

“And until we understand what links them,” Soren added, “she stays in the field. With proper support.”

Lupa’s chest tightened at the word support in his mouth. Once, he’d campaigned to keep her away from his brother. Now he was defending her usefulness. Progress, she supposed. In a bleak sort of way.

“Then we have an accord,” Caiden said. “Mixed patrols. Shared intel. And constant observation of Miss Morrin’s… condition.”

Lupa’s fingers curled against the table. “You can all stop talking about me like I’m a defective weapon.”

“Not defective,” Selis said, finally leaning into frame. Her gaze met Lupa’s through the glass. “Just proof that our elders played with forces they didn’t understand.”

For a heartbeat, there was something almost like apology in her eyes.

“Let’s make sure they don’t get a second chance,” Lupa said.

Outside, far beyond the reinforced windows, the river sighed around its banks. And somewhere in the dark between city and forest, something that carried a piece of her scent lifted its head and listened.