And Director Elias Thorne, the man I had outmaneuvered in a Geneva conference room just three days ago, had orchestrated the entire attack. He had used the UN’s own stealth transport, the UN’s own reverse-engineered silence-tech, and the UN’s own security clearance to breach my home and steal my child.
The betrayal is so absolute, so profound, that for a moment, I can't breathe.
Then, the mate bond flares.
Kade’s consciousness, dim and sedated, brushes against mine. It doesn't offer words. It doesn't offer comfort. It just offers a solid, unyielding wall of shared, lethal resolve. We hunt, the bond says. We hunt them all.
I look at the mercenary. His human eye is pleading, begging for the release of death as the slag creeps closer to his brain stem.
"Thank you," I say softly.
I nod t
