Leo's POV
"Target acquired." Cyra whispered.
She tapped her tablet screen. Holographic bubble popped up. Stream of data. Red text. Black background.
Subject: Lyra Vane.
Request: Full Background Check. Financials. Medical History. Associates.
Origin: Storm Tower, Penthouse Server.
Authorized by: Elias Thorne.
"He's digging," I said. Pushed my glasses up. "Fast."
We sat in our "war room". Mom's closet. Cramped. Smelled of lavender detergent. Stale popcorn. Monitors stacked on shoe racks. Cables snaking across the floor. Techno-vines.
Aries doing one-armed push-ups. Corner. "Let me go up there," he grunted. "I'll punch the computer."
"You can't punch a server, Aries." Sighed. "It's in the cloud."
"I can punch a cloud if I jump high enough."
"Focus." Cyra commanded. Scary one. Five years old. Tutu. Held the digital keys to the city's traffic grid. "Daddy is looking for Mommy. If he finds the records—fake identity, weapon purchases, debt—we move."
"No moving." Aries stopped. Sat up. Sweat on his forehead. "I like this school. Gym teacher is loud. But he lets me climb the rope without a harness."
"Then we need a distraction," I said. "Make him look away. Or better... make him afraid to look."
Cyra grinned. Not nice. Predator found an unlocked door.
"Operation Piggy?"
Looked at the screen. Encrypted tunnel to the Penthouse smart home system open. Firewall impressive—military grade—but Cyra found a backdoor. Thermostat firmware.
"Operation Piggy," I agreed. "But subtle. No war. Just... warning."
Cyra's fingers flew across the glass.
"Accessing main control node," she hummed. "Bypassing security protocols. Injecting payload..."
Paused. "Oops."
"What oops?" Leaned over.
"Might have used the Old Code," she mumbled. "One Mommy taught us. Sumerian base."
Eyes widened. "Cyra! That's distinct! If he has a linguist..."
"He's a brute," Aries scoffed. "Punches things. Won't know ancient coding languages."
"Uploading in 3... 2... 1..." Enter.
Screen. Progress bar filled with pink sparkles.
"Current status of Target?"
Cyra switched feeds. "Master Bathroom. Occupied. Water running. Temperature... 42 degrees Celsius. Seeking heat signature."
Stared at the grainy thermal image. Large, hulking figure standing under the spray.
"He's huge," Aries muttered. Respect.
"He's the target," I corrected. "Execute."
Damon's POV
Water was scalding. Liked it.
Steam filled the massive enclosure. Glass walls opaque. Heat hammered against my back. Washing away the soreness. The encounter.
Lyra Vane.
Name tasted like iron. Honey.
Closed my eyes. Forehead against cool tile. Feral Madness gone. Silent. Mind not a chaotic storm. Still lake.
Because of her.
Because of that kick.
Chuckled. Sound echoing in the steam. Form. Perfect leverage. Didn't hesitate. Struck.
Who trained you, Lyra? Why hiding in my building?
"Sir." JARVIS spoke. "Incoming priority message from Elias. Background check initiated."
"Good." Reached for the soap. "Read it."
"Error." Voice different. Higher. Squeakier.
"JARVIS?"
"Oink."
Paused. Soap in hand.
"Oink?"
Lights flickered. Smart mirror—wall-to-wall screen—flashed red.
Then, pink.
Neon. Bubblegum.
Stock ticker vanished. Replaced by a giant, animated cartoon pig. Wearing a tuxedo. Monocle.
"What the hell..."
Music blasted. Surround sound. Not classical. Not jazz.
Baby Shark.
Remixed. Maximum volume.
Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo...
"JARVIS! Mute!" Roared.
"Oink oink!" Pig danced. Words appeared. Jagged, childish font.
STAY AWAY FROM MOMMY, BIG BAD WOLF.
Stared.
Steam swirled. Ridiculous song thumped against marble walls.
Wasn't angry. Should have been. Breach. Mockery. Sanctuary violated.
But not angry.
Stepped out of the spray. Water cascading. Grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around my waist.
Walked to the mirror. Wiped the steam away.
Pig winked.
WE ARE WATCHING YOU.
Leaned closer. Ignored the pig. Looked at the scrolling code running down the side. The "signature".
Most hackers used binary. Hex. Python.
This...
Narrowed my eyes. Symbols weren't English. Wedges. Triangles. Lines.
Cuneiform.
Sumerian.
Old Wolf Tongue. Language of the First Pack. Ancient scrolls.
Code written in a dead language.
"Impossible," I whispered.
Only a few scholars knew this. And...
My grandfather. Me.
And the woman I taught it to. Six years ago. Dungeon. Lucid nights.
Touched the glass.
Code was elegant. Simple. Brutal. Childish flair. Loops unnecessary. Variable names... "Sparkle", "Doom", "Cookie".
Cookie?
"You're not Lyra," I realized. Speaking to the pig. "You're too small."
Music stopped.
Pig froze.
Message typed out. Character by character.
WE ARE LEGION.
IF YOU HURT MOMMY, WE WILL LEAK YOUR BATHROOM PHOTOS.
Threw my head back. Laughed. Genuine. Chest-rumbling. Surprised me.
Cubs.
Lyra Vane didn't just have a past. She had pups.
High-IQ, hacker-genius, ancient-language-coding pups.
Protecting their mother.
"JARVIS." Hoping the pig virus hadn't eaten the core.
"Yes, Sir?" Voice normal. Pig vanished. NASDAQ returned.
"Did you trace the intrusion?"
"Source localized, Sir. Sub-network 40-A."
Apartment below.
Of course.
"Do not block them," I ordered. Staring at my reflection. Gold in my eyes glowing. Soft. Warm. "Let them play."
"Sir? They compromised the security grid. Ordered 50 pizzas to the lobby."
"Pay for the pizzas. Send them down to 40-A."
Touched the mirror again. Tracing where the pig had been.
"Smart cubs," I murmured. "Protective."
Leaned in. Damp hair dripping onto the counter. Droplets hitting the marble. *Plink. Plink.*
"Who are you, little pigs?" Asked the reflection. "And who taught you the First Tongue?"
No answer. Didn't need one.
Hunt just got interesting.
Turned away. Grabbed my robe. Silk. Cool against skin.
"Elias." Spoke into the air.
"Yes, Alpha?"
"Don't cancel the background check." Smirk. Dangerous. "Broaden the parameters."
"Sir?"
"Look for birth records. Five years ago. Triplets. Multiple births linked to Lyra Vane."
"Understood."
Walked to the window. City lights.
You can hide them, Lyra. Teach them digital disguises. Ancient codes.
But blood calls to blood.
And I always answer.