SILVERTHORNE

CHAPTER SIX: FAULT LINES

The next day began like a bruise dull and aching beneath the surface of Amira’s perfect composure. She stood before the mirror in her office restroom, hands gripping the edge of the sink. Her reflection stared back too composed, too careful, with eyes that held the feral exhaustion of a Shifter struggling with a primal bond. She fixed her blouse collar, inhaled deeply, and scented the air, the sterile office, the faint, lingering musk of Korede’s cologne from yesterday then stepped into the storm.

The boardroom was already half-full when she arrived. Korede sat at the far end, calmly sipping coffee as though he had always belonged at the Alpha’s table, his posture radiating a quiet, unnerving confidence.

“Morning, Miss Silverthorne,” one of the board members greeted her. “We’ve received the preliminary numbers you requested for the compliance audit.”

She nodded. “We’ll address them after the proposal adjustments. Our focus must remain on the strategic continuation of the Alpha line’s vision.”

Her father, the Alpha, entered last, giving a brief nod of approval before sitting beside his brother, Uncle Jide. The room quieted, the subtle shift in energy confirming the presence of the highest-ranking Shifters.

Amira launched into a confident presentation, using the language of numbers to mask the primal battle for control. It was sharp, efficient, detailed, a reminder of why she’d been chosen to be the future Luna. But halfway through, Korede interrupted, his voice smooth and challenging.

“If I may,” he said, the sound sending a jarring vibration through the floor. “While your numbers project optimistic growth, have we considered the operational cost increase over the next three quarters? Specifically, the capital expenditure required for your centralized logistics overhaul seems highly vulnerable to market volatility.”

A few murmurs rippled around the table, confirming he had captured their attention.

Amira didn’t flinch. She pushed back the instinctive, magnetic pull the sound of his voice triggered. “Yes. As stated on page seven, the budget forecast absorbs fluctuations using a conservative margin across all channels. Unless you’ve identified a missed metric, Beta Korede?”

He smirked, his eyes briefly flashing a dangerous gold. “I’ll follow up with finance. No need to derail the presentation, Heiress.”

She continued, finishing her proposal with razor focus, but the seed of tension, the primal challenge to her authority had been firmly planted.

Back in her office, the silence was a balm, a temporary shield against the shifter politics.

Until Layla burst in, flopping onto the sofa like a restless pup.

“Did you see the way Korede handled himself?” Layla enthused. “Honestly, he’s kind of… impressive. He countered your points with incredible grace.”

Amira paused mid-sip of water. “Impressive?”

Layla grinned. “You can’t lie. He’s not the awkward boy from before. I think the time in exile did him good. He’s got that brooding Alpha-in-waiting vibe. And he remembered the mango tree game we used to play. That’s… sweet.”

Amira’s stomach twisted. The easy affection Layla showed him was a liability.

“Don’t get too close, Layla. You don’t know him.”

Layla sat up, genuinely frustrated. “Why do you hate him so much? Every time he’s near, your scent changes, it’s like lightning and fear. What did he do to you?”

“I don’t hate him.”

“You look at him like he’s poison,” Layla insisted.

Amira turned away. “Some poisons don’t show symptoms until the wound is too deep to heal.”

Layla stared for a long, wounded moment, then walked out, leaving Amira alone with the suffocating silence.

That evening, Tariq, her forbidden human love, arrived unannounced. He brought takeout, tired eyes, and a quiet kind of love that was the only real thing in her life. She opened the door, and the sight of him made her shifter energy settle instantly.

He walked in, set the food down, and opened his arms. She stepped into them, inhaling his comforting human scent no Alpha musk, no primal danger just safety. She felt herself exhale for the first time all day.

They ate in silence for a while, until Tariq finally said, “Talk to me. That tension in the air today felt dangerous, even to me.”

She set down her fork. “It’s worse than I thought. Korede isn’t just back. He’s making moves. He’s charming the Beta council. He’s undermining everything I’ve built before I’ve even begun.”

“You think he wants the Pack?”

“I think he wants power, Tariq. And he wants to expose my father’s lies to get it. And I am right in the middle.”

After a long pause, she whispered the truth she had kept locked inside for eighteen years. “I never told you what happened the night of the fire, the night my brother was taken from us.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t rush her.

“I saw him. Korede. I was only eight. Hiding in a hallway closet near the fuse box he had tampered with. He looked terrified. But he was also completely frozen. Then there was fire. Smoke. Screaming. My brother…” Her voice broke on the final word.

Tariq squeezed her hand tighter, his grip strong and warm.

“My parents, the Alpha and Luna, told me I imagined it. That trauma plays tricks on memory. But I didn’t imagine the way he froze. I didn’t imagine him running away, leaving my brother behind in the blaze.”

Tariq wrapped his arms around her and held her until the weight of her Pack’s silence settled into the night. For the first time since Korede’s return, she felt the true anchor of her human bond.

Later, alone in bed, the knowledge of Korede’s guilt still felt fresh. She scrolled aimlessly through her emails anything to distract her racing thoughts from the primal conflict brewing inside her.

Then her screen went black for a split second like a blink.

Her phone buzzed.

A message.

No contact name. Just text.

“You think you know what happened that night. But you don’t. Korede didn’t run from the fire; he was protecting a different secret. Meet me. No one else. I know the true source code.”

Her pulse quickened, her blood racing with a terrifying surge of shifter adrenaline. She sat upright, the warmth of Tariq’s love forgotten in the face of this new, unseen threat.

Was this Korede playing games? Trying to lure her into the mate bond?

Or had someone else been watching all along, someone with deeper knowledge of the Silverthorne Holdings conspiracy?

She read the message again, breath shallow. Then again. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

She didn’t reply. Not yet.

Down the hall, her father’s voice laughed softly on a business call. Downstairs, the staff was preparing dinner.

And in her room quiet, dim, full of shadows the fire that never went out flickered behind her eyes again. She had been right; the fire didn't stay buried. But it seemed she had been wrong about who started it, and who the real witness was.

Amira re-read the final sentence of the anonymous message: "I know the true source code." That phrase, the exact language she'd used in her private audits could only have come from someone inside her inner circle or someone who had direct access to the Silverthorne network. She knew where the message was pointing her: the abandoned west wing of the manor. She had to go. Tonight.