Anya spent the morning submerged in code, trying to filter the quantum noise the conspirators used. Kaelan hovered, his impatience a palpable hum in the office.
"We need a pattern, Anya. They won't risk another beacon," he pressed, standing too close.
"The encryption key uses a fractal algorithm," she muttered, pointing to the screen. "It's too complex for an amateur to run. Our conspirators are high-level. Possibly an Alpha or a close advisor."
Kaelan moved to look at the display, his shoulder brushing hers. The scent of pine and something musky made her lose her concentration.
"Step back, Alpha," she hissed, without looking up. "The cost of your proximity is my efficiency."
Kaelan hesitated, but seeing the code scramble on the screen, he grudgingly stepped away.
Hours later, Anya found a minute vulnerability: a residual echo in the code that indicated the conspirators were not Lycans, but Hybrids—half-human, half-shifter—using her tech to hide their weaker scent.
"Hybrids," she announced, turning to Kaelan. "They have an edge. They move through human society unnoticed. They have no Pack loyalty."
Kaelan's blue eyes hardened. "Hybrids are unstable and dangerous. This is worse than a political coup, Anya. They will expose us all."
His sudden, heavy fear sent a spike of unwanted anxiety through the Mate Bond, forcing her to share his growing panic.