The lagoon villa felt smaller with every passing hour. Only two days remained until the full moon, and the air inside the secure meeting room crackled with distrust.
Logan stood at the head of the long mahogany table, his broad shoulders tense beneath a black shirt that barely contained the power rolling off him. His golden-brown eyes swept over the five remaining loyal pack members. Scars on his forearms peeked from rolled-up sleeves — faint lines that healed almost as soon as they appeared.
"Speak plainly," he growled, voice low and rough like gravel. "If any of you are thinking about Aria's offer, say it now."
Kemi, the tallest of the group and one of Logan's oldest allies, crossed her arms. Her eyes glowed faintly with the same enhanced energy that ran through Logan's veins. "Boss, we've followed you since you broke free from that hellhole lab. But the Architect is promising something we've never had — control without the rage. No more waking up with blood on our hands. Some of the others are listening."
Another pack member, a lean man named Tayo, nodded reluctantly. "Aria says Voss can stabilize the beast. Make us stronger without turning into monsters. And he wants the girl because her blood works with yours. If we hand her over, maybe we all win."
Elara sat beside Logan, spine straight, refusing to shrink under their stares. She had spent the last day training with them — learning to handle a gun, move silently, and read body language under pressure. Her arms still ached from sparring, but her resolve burned hotter than ever.
She met Tayo's gaze head-on. "I'm not a bargaining chip. And Logan isn't weak because of me. He's stronger. The mate bond isn't making him lose control — it's giving him something worth controlling for."
Logan's hand found hers under the table, squeezing hard enough to ground them both. The romantic conflict raged inside him: the beast wanted to snarl at anyone who even looked at Elara wrong, while the man feared that his past would drag her into darkness forever.
"You heard her," Logan said, voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "Anyone who touches her answers to me. And if you choose Voss, walk out that door right now. No blood spilled today."
Two of the five shifted uncomfortably but stayed seated. The other three nodded in quiet support.
After the meeting broke, Logan pulled Elara into the master suite and locked the door behind them. The moment the lock clicked, the tension between them exploded.
He backed her against the wall, one big hand cupping her jaw while the other gripped her hip. "Every time they question us, the beast pushes harder," he rasped, forehead resting against hers. His breath was hot, ragged. "It wants to mark you so deep no one can ever take you. But I'm terrified that if I let go even a little…"
Elara slid her hands up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart. "Then let go with me. Not out of fear — because you trust me to pull you back."
Their kiss was fierce and hungry, months of danger and denied feelings pouring out. Logan lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed. Clothes disappeared in a blur of need. His touch was rough yet reverent — claws carefully retracted as he explored every inch of her, growling low praises against her skin. Elara arched into him, gasping his name, the mate bond flaring bright and addictive between them.
When they finally collapsed together, sweat-slick and breathing hard, Logan pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to her temple. "You make the noise in my head quieter," he admitted softly. "But Voss knows that. He'll use it against us."
Elara traced the fading scar on his shoulder. "Then we use our bond against him. We're not just surviving this, Logan. We're winning it — together."
They spent the rest of the day planning with the loyal pack. Intel came in fragments: Aria had taken three more members to a rendezvous point near the original black-site lab. Voss was fortifying the facility with new suppressor tech and enhanced guards.
As night fell, a secure message pinged on Logan's phone. It was from an unknown number, but the words chilled them both:
Two days until the moon is full. Bring the girl or watch her brother's hospital records go public — along with proof of what paid those bills. Tick tock, Wolverine.
Logan's claws extended involuntarily, digging into the wooden table. "He's targeting Michael again."
Elara's face hardened with determination. "Then we move first. We hit the rendezvous point tomorrow night. Rescue anyone we can and send a message that we're not afraid."
Logan looked at her, pride and raw hunger mixing in his gaze. The woman who had once signed a contract out of desperation was now ready to storm hell beside him.
But as they prepared weapons and reviewed maps, both felt the weight of the coming full moon pressing down like a blade at their throats.