Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 88

POV: Seraphina

We convened in a makeshift war room, set up in a dusty warehouse office overlooking the gray, churning sea. The air was thick with the scent of brine and grim determination. On a large table, maps of the continent were spread out, marked with the territories of our enemies and our few potential allies. The reality of our situation was stark. We were a pack in exile, a leadership without a land, a handful of loyalists against the vast, entrenched power of the Blackwood Alliance. We were fugitives with no safe harbor.

"Our first priority is a base of operations," Jax said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "A place to regroup, to retrain our warriors, and to begin forging our new alliances. A place Damian cannot reach."

One of the elders, a grizzled old wolf named Lucian, shook his head. "But where, Alpha Jax? Every free territory is either too weak to protect us or too afraid to defy Blackwood."

This was the moment. I watched as my brother took a deep breath, preparing to reveal the final piece of the puzzle, the secret architect of our escape.

"From the very beginning," Jax began, his eyes sweeping over the council of worried faces, "we have not been alone. Every piece of intelligence on Damian's movements, every warning about his sanctions, the untraceable funds that have paid for our mercenaries, and the very ship that brought us here… it all came from one source."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "An ally. One who has operated in the shadows, who contacted me months ago. Someone who has been helping us for his own reasons."

"Who?" Elias demanded, his voice a low growl. "What pack? What Alpha would dare?"

He took a step closer to me. "His real name is Killian Vance. And he is on his way here now."

Killian Vance. The name echoed in the silent room. The faceless benefactor, the professional admirer of my anonymous mind, was about to become a real person. A man. And he was not coming to meet a broken Luna or a grieving daughter. He was coming to meet a strategist. For the first time since my world had shattered, a feeling other than grief or rage stirred within me. A faint, unfamiliar flicker of… nervous anticipation.

The thought of facing him, of being seen not as a victim but as an asset, sent a strange, unexpected ripple across the still, frozen lake of my heart.