Elara heard the lock disengage before she heard the footsteps.
Soft.
Deliberate.
Not the hurried entry of staff responding to protocol—
But the measured approach of someone who did not fear being here.
Uff.
Her hand tightened instinctively against the desk as the door opened just enough to admit a narrow silhouette in pale silk.
Serena.
Of course.
Because cruelty preferred an audience.
"You look awful," Serena said lightly, stepping inside as though the reinforced wing were a drawing room and not—
Containment.
Elara didn't answer.
Because her pulse was already climbing.
Because the bond had reacted—
Immediately.
Grr—
Serena's gaze flicked once toward the camera in the corner.
Then back.
"Relax," she murmured. "They've muted this feed."
Holy shit.
"What?"
"Oh don't look so surprised," Serena said, the faintest curl touching her mouth. "Even the pack enjoys plausible deniability."
Her heels made no sound against the marble.
Measured.
Controlled.
Predatory.
