The neuro-stabilizer was a success, but the shared emotional toll of the week left both Kaelan and Anya drained. The office hummed with the quiet aftermath of battle—both the political war with Silas and the physical war for Kaelan's control.
Anya was back at her coding, trying to refine the Hybrid trace filters, when Kaelan entered the office from the suite, freshly showered and wearing clean tactical gear. He didn't speak. He simply crossed to the coffee machine, poured a mug, and placed it silently on Anya's desk.
She watched the steam rise from the porcelain cup. It was a perfect temperature, exactly how she liked it. He hadn't asked; he had just observed and provided. A small, unsolicited kindness.
The action—so simple, so human—was completely at odds with the forced claim and the Alpha Commands. It chipped away at the monster she had built in her mind.
"Thank you," Anya murmured, surprised by the word's genuine sincerity.
"It is logical," Kaelan replied, avoiding eye contact. "Your productivity increases with optimum chemical levels."
Anya smiled faintly into her mug. Logical. The Alpha was too proud to admit he was offering comfort, so he labeled it efficiency.
She took a careful sip and noticed a small, folded piece of paper beside the mug. She unfolded it. It wasn't a threat; it was a rough sketch of the Lycan Clan territory, marking the perimeter defenses and the escape routes Silas had used.
"The boundaries of your cage," Kaelan's handwriting read. "Study them."
Anya looked up, stunned. He was actively giving her information she could use to escape, a clear violation of his own Alpha code. The gesture wasn't meant to be romantic; it was an acknowledgment of her intellect and her fundamental right to self-preservation.