Chapter 7 - The Bloodline ProjectThey returned to Croft Estate forty-eight hours later.
Winterhold survived.
Six attackers were dead.
Fourteen were captured.
None would identify who had hired them.
Celeste remained in Dominion custody under twenty-four-hour guard.
Elias personally apologized for allowing Winterhold’s security to be compromised.
Harper accepted his apology.
Kane did not.
Seraphine promised to send every surviving attacker’s financial history.
Lucian came with them.
That created immediate problems.
The first occurred before they reached the front door.
Gideon’s deputy stared at Lucian.
Then at Kane.
Then back at Lucian.
“Sir?”
Kane looked tired.
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
Harper covered her mouth.
Lucian laughed.
Kane did not.
“Still me.”
The deputy turned red.
“Yes, sir.”
Lucian leaned toward Harper.
“I’m beginning to enjoy this.”
“You won’t after the third board meeting.”
Kane looked at both of them.
“Why are you friends?”
“We’re not,” Harper said.
Lucian answered simultaneously.
“She likes me.”
“I tolerate you academically.”
“Practically affection.”
Kane walked inside.
Gideon followed, smiling.
For the next ten hours, Croft Estate became an investigation center.
Every security log was pulled.
Medical systems were audited.
Former employees were questioned.
The stolen archive had been housed in a secure basement vault.
Whoever entered possessed Malcolm-era access codes nobody should still have known.
That was the second clue.
The third came from an old server Gideon had disconnected but never destroyed.
Harper sat cross-legged on Kane’s office floor at one in the morning surrounded by printed documents.
Kane entered carrying food.
“You missed dinner.”
“I found something.”
“You also said that at eight.”
“This is different.”
“It always is.”
He placed a plate beside her.
Harper looked down.
Sandwich.
Apple slices.
Coffee.
She looked at him.
“I love you.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Silence.
Kane froze.
Harper froze.
The entire universe appeared to freeze.
She looked at the sandwich.
Then at Kane.
“Apparently food causes emotional recklessness.”
Kane did not move.
Harper wanted to crawl under the desk.
They had never said it.
They had lived it.
Slept beside it.
Nearly died for it.
But they had not said the words.
Kane lowered himself to the floor across from her.
“Say it again.”
Harper’s throat tightened.
“Kane.”
“Please.”
He looked more vulnerable than he had while facing an armed Celeste.
Harper exhaled.
“I love you.”
His eyes closed.
Just briefly.
When they opened, they were warm amber.
“I love you too.”
Harper’s chest hurt.
He reached for her hand.
“I have for longer than I knew what to call it.”
Her eyes burned.
“This is inconvenient timing.”
“You began it.”
“I was complimenting a sandwich.”
“You declared love.”
“It’s a very good sandwich.”
Kane laughed quietly.
Then he leaned forward and kissed her.
Slow.
Warm.
No council.
No danger.
No broken wolf.
For several seconds, the investigation disappeared.
When they separated, Kane rested his forehead against hers.
“What did you find?”
Harper looked at the documents.
“Something terrible enough to ruin the moment.”
“Of course.”
She handed him a report.
The heading read:
PROJECT APEX — HEREDITARY ALPHA STABILITY TRIALS.
Kane stopped breathing.
Harper watched his eyes move across the page.
Subject K-2.
Male.
Age twelve.
Elevated dominance signature.
Episodes of involuntary projection.
Treatment protocol included chemical suppression, sensory deprivation and controlled threat exposure.
Kane’s fingers tightened.
“Subject K-2.”
Harper nodded.
“You.”
His face went blank.
She handed him another page.
Subject L-1.
Male.
Age fourteen.
Location unknown.
Genetic probability suggests comparable manifestation.
Lucian.
Kane stood abruptly.
Harper followed.
“This was my father.”
“Yes.”
“He knew about Lucian.”
“Yes.”
“He wasn’t trying to kill him because of inheritance.”
Harper hesitated.
“I think inheritance was part of it.”
“But?”
“He was afraid of what two sons with the same trait might prove.”
Kane walked toward the fireplace.
The old tremor had returned to his hands.
Harper joined him.
“Your power isn’t damage.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“The uncontrolled projection. The Alpha pressure. Vivian built her conspiracy around the assumption that something was wrong with you.”
“Something was wrong.”
“Your control was wrong.”
He stared.
Harper lifted the report.
“Malcolm spent years telling you your wolf was defective while using medication that made the instability worse.”
Kane said nothing.
“The early assessments say your power increased naturally under emotional stress, but your baseline recovery was normal.”
His face changed.
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t born broken.”
Silence.
Harper’s voice softened.
“You were trained to believe power itself was a failure.”
Kane looked away.
For most people, the sentence might have brought relief.
For Kane it looked like grief.
His entire adult life had been organized around containment.
Medication.
Isolation.
Fear.
Women warned before entering a room.
Security teams standing behind locked doors.
A council prepared to remove him.
And now a document written by his dead father suggested the foundation of that terror had been manufactured.
Harper touched his back.
He did not turn.
“My father knew.”
“Yes.”
“He did this intentionally.”
“Yes.”
The word was cruel.
But Kane deserved truth more than comfort disguised as uncertainty.
His shoulders lowered.
“Why?”
Harper looked toward the files.
“I don’t know yet.”
A voice came from the doorway.
“I might.”
Lucian stood there.
He held an old leather notebook.
Kane turned.
Lucian entered carefully.
“My mother left this with the family that hid me.”
He placed the notebook on the desk.
“Malcolm visited her several times after I was born.”
Harper opened it.
Elena Vale’s handwriting filled the pages.
Most entries were ordinary.
Fear.
Money.
Loneliness.
Then a repeated phrase appeared.
Malcolm says the bloodline is changing.
Harper’s pulse quickened.
Another entry.
He says his father had episodes too, but weaker. He believes our son confirms something.
Kane leaned over her shoulder.
Lucian turned the page.
One sentence had been underlined three times.
He called the boys the next stage.
Nobody spoke.
Harper kept reading.
Malcolm believed certain Alpha families were developing stronger dominance projection with each generation.
Not ordinary leadership pressure.
Something capable of affecting other wolves neurologically.
Compelling fear.
Disrupting shifts.
Possibly suppressing opposing Alphas entirely.
Kane sat down.
“He wanted a weapon.”
Lucian’s mouth hardened.
“He wanted an heir he could control.”
Harper looked between them.
“And when you survived, there were two.”
Lucian nodded.
“My mother wrote that Malcolm became obsessed with determining which of us would manifest the stronger trait.”
Kane’s laugh held no humor.
“So he tortured one and tried to kill the other.”
“Efficient parenting.”
Kane looked at him.
Lucian’s expression softened slightly.
For the first time, Harper saw something between the brothers other than suspicion.
Shared damage.
Different childhoods.
Same father.
Harper returned to the Croft documents.
Project Apex continued for years.
Malcolm contracted researchers.
Private laboratories.
Behavioral specialists.
Several names were redacted.
One company appeared repeatedly.
Northstar Biomedical.
Harper searched the corporate registry.
Nothing current.
Then she searched old acquisition records.
Her breath stopped.
Northstar had been dissolved nine years earlier.
Its assets were purchased by Mercer Holdings.
Vivian’s family.
Kane looked over her shoulder.
“Vivian knew.”
“Yes.”
Lucian swore.
Harper kept following the trail.
Northstar’s intellectual property later moved through several shell companies.
One of those companies had received Croft funds Vivian stole.
Not all stolen money had been for personal enrichment.
Some had financed continued research.
“This was never only about taking your company.”
Kane’s face hardened.
“She wanted the project.”
Harper nodded.
“She wanted access to whatever Malcolm discovered.”
Lucian crossed his arms.
“Why?”
Harper opened one more file.
A recent invoice.
Medical equipment.
Genetic sequencing systems.
Chemical synthesis.
Delivered to an address outside Tacoma.
Gideon entered at that moment.
“Harper.”
She looked up.
His expression was grave.
“The attackers we captured at Winterhold?”
“Yes?”
“Three of them are dead.”
Kane stood.
“How?”
“Cardiac arrest.”
“All three?”
“Within eleven minutes.”
Lucian frowned.
“Poison?”
“They showed no conventional toxin.”
Harper looked at the Project Apex documents.
“What did their bloodwork show?”
Gideon hesitated.
“Why?”
“Were they wolves?”
“Yes.”
“Normal wolves?”
Gideon’s expression changed.
“The medical team noted abnormal suppressant levels.”
Kane went still.
Harper’s voice dropped.
“Somebody experimented on them.”
They left for the Tacoma address before dawn.
Kane refused to wait.
Gideon assembled a tactical team.
Lucian insisted on joining.
Harper insisted harder.
By sunrise, three black SUVs were moving through industrial streets south of the city.
The address belonged to an abandoned pharmaceutical warehouse.
No signage.
No vehicles.
No obvious guards.
That worried Harper more than visible security would have.
They entered through the loading dock.
Inside smelled sterile.
Recently cleaned.
Too recently.
The first room contained empty medical cages.
The second contained computers stripped of hard drives.
The third changed everything.
Glass cells lined both walls.
Six in total.
Five empty.
One occupied.
A young man sat on the floor.
Perhaps twenty.
Barefoot.
Hospital clothing.
He looked up as they entered.
His eyes were terrified.
Kane approached slowly.
The young man scrambled backward.
“No.”
Kane stopped.
“You’re safe.”
“No Alpha.”
His hands covered his head.
“No more.”
Harper moved beside Kane.
“What’s your name?”
The young man looked at her.
“Evan.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who brought you?”
His breathing became rapid.
“Doctors.”
“What were they doing?”
Evan looked toward Kane.
“They wanted to know if he could be copied.”
Nobody moved.
Harper’s skin went cold.
“Who?”
Evan pointed at Kane.
“The King.”
Kane’s face emptied.
Harper knelt outside the glass.
“Evan, did they use his blood?”
The young man began crying.
“Not just his.”
He looked at Lucian.
“They found the other one too.”
Lucian stepped forward.
“What do you mean?”
Evan pressed himself against the wall.
“They said two originals were enough.”
Harper’s heartbeat pounded.
“Enough for what?”
Evan’s voice fell to a whisper.
“To make an army.”
Behind them, an alarm began screaming.
Gideon turned.
“Movement!”
Metal doors slammed throughout the warehouse.
Kane grabbed Harper.
The lights switched off.
Emergency locks engaged.
Then speakers crackled overhead.
A woman’s voice filled the building.
Calm.
Elegant.
Familiar.
Vivian Mercer.
“Hello, Kane.”
Harper stared upward.
Kane’s claws extended.
Vivian continued.
“I wondered how long it would take your accountant to find Northstar.”
Harper felt Kane’s anger rise.
But beneath it was something worse.
Understanding.
Vivian was imprisoned.
Yet her voice was here.
Pre-recorded.
Prepared long before her arrest.
The message continued.
“If you are hearing this, then Project Apex has moved to its final location.”
Lucian looked toward Harper.
Vivian laughed softly through the speakers.
“And if Harper is standing beside you, please tell her she was correct about one thing.”
A pause.
May you like
“It was always about power.”
Then gas began pouring into the room.
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