Briar’s POV 1
The thought lingered in my mind for several moments before clarity struck. Of course it made perfect sense. How could I have taken something from someone when I couldn’t even read at such a young age? The memory of stealing it seemed impossible when I considered my childhood limitations. Eventually, I dismissed the nagging doubt and returned my attention to the pages before me.
Asher began preparing for his evening shower routine, positioning himself between our two narrow beds as he pulled his shirt over his head. Despite my best efforts to remain focused on my book, my eyes betrayed me completely. The defined muscles of his torso shifted and flexed with each subtle movement, creating an almost hypnotic display of strength and grace. Then the intricate tattoo spanning the entire upper portion of his back captured my attention entirely. The artwork was impossible to ignore, covering nearly every inch of available skin with detailed precision.
Realizing I had been caught staring once again, I quickly redirected my gaze back to the open book in my lap, desperately attempting to concentrate on the printed words. Unfortunately, my efforts proved largely unsuccessful as my mind continued wandering.
Nico’s knowing grin met my eyes from across the room, and I felt the familiar warmth of embarrassment spreading across my cheeks like wildfire. Without hesitation, I grabbed my book and made a hasty retreat outside to the small table and chair setup positioned just beyond the bunk house entrance. The single overhead light provided barely adequate illumination for reading, but it offered the privacy I desperately needed.
Time seemed to blur together as I lost myself in the story, until Corbin’s approaching footsteps broke through my concentration. The evening light–out protocol was clearly approaching, so I carefully placed my
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bookmark between the pages and closed the book with reluctant finality.
“That’s something we rarely witness around these parts,” Corbin observed, settling himself nearby.
“What exactly do you mean?” I questioned, genuinely curious about his
statement.
“Someone actually taking time to read,” he replied with obvious amusement in his voice.
“I suppose you’ll need to adjust your expectations then. However, this represents my entire literary collection, and I haven’t noticed any library facilities in the immediate vicinity, so this will likely be the extent of your reading observations,” I responded with dry humor.
“I’m confident we can arrange something more substantial for you. But right now, I need to discuss something rather important with you,” he said, his expression growing noticeably more serious as he took a seat.
“Your tone suggests this matter carries significant weight,” I noted, studying his suddenly grave demeanor.
“It absolutely does. Your timing regarding the transfer to this location was remarkably fortunate. We’ve just received official confirmation that your previous base suffered a devastating attack. While we don’t possess all the specific details yet, we can confirm that werewolves were responsible for the assault. The commanding officer at that location had suspected they were under surveillance by the nearest pack territories. Intelligence suggests those same packs orchestrated the entire attack.”
The weight of Corbin’s words hit me like a physical blow as he continued his explanation.
“How extensive was the damage?” I managed to ask, dreading his response.
“Complete and total destruction. Both the Captain and trainer Fletcher have been officially declared casualties. Numerous other personnel are still undergoing identification processes. Additionally, several individuals remain
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completely unaccounted for at this time,” Corbin delivered the devastating news with professional detachment.
“Liam and Sophie were my closest companions there,” I said, feeling my voice catch slightly on their names.
“Once we receive the comprehensive casualty list, I’ll ensure you have access to review it thoroughly. That way you can determine who perished in the attack and who might have successfully escaped during the ambush,” he offered with genuine sympathy.
“I appreciate that consideration,” I replied, though my voice sounded distant and hollow even to my own ears. My gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance as my mind raced with questions about the attack’s perpetrators. Who possessed the strength and coordination necessary to assault a base filled with trained Hunters? Our previous location had been exceptionally well fortified and strategically positioned. The small packs operating in proximity to the base couldn’t have possessed the numbers or resources required for such a comprehensive assault. If they were indeed responsible, then they must have received substantial assistance from unknown allies.
Suddenly, Elena’s face materialized in my thoughts with startling clarity.
The timing of her appearance in my mind seemed completely random. Our unit hadn’t eliminated any members from her pack during our operations. For reasons I couldn’t fully explain, I didn’t perceive her as a genuine threat to our mission.
Every werewolf typically triggered my trained defensive instincts, but she represented a distinct exception to that rule. Despite shooting her with a silver bullet, when she pursued me through the forest, some instinct told me she had no intention of ending my life. Her chase served some entirely different purpose that I couldn’t comprehend.
Especially after she called me by that name. Briar.
When mental clarity finally returned, I walked back inside the bunk house
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and carefully stored my book away before settling into my assigned bed for the night.
Corbin made a point of checking on my emotional state, and I assured him that I would manage the situation without difficulty.
His skeptical expression made it clear he didn’t believe my reassurance. He was absolutely right to doubt me. But I refused to allow everyone else sharing this living space to witness the depth of my current distress. The knowledge that the people who raised me and shaped my training were likely all dead remained my private burden to bear. Their personal business didn’t extend to my grief.
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