Chase’s POV
The alarm shattered the silence at 5:14 a.m.—three sharp pulses, red lights flashing across every screen in the command post. Northern fence line. Single breach. No vehicle. No pack signature.
Just one small heat signature—human, female, collapsed against the chain-link.
I was already moving before the second pulse sounded.
Crutches forgotten. Brace clicking uselessly as I half-ran, half-stumbled down the porch steps. The knee buckled twice—pain white-hot, vision tunneling—but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
Amelia.
Her name was the only thing in my head.
The betas were already converging—Rafe barking orders, Marcus sweeping the woods, Jase on the gate controls—but I didn’t wait. I limped across the lawn faster than I’d moved in months, grass wet underfoot, dawn light turn
