Chapter 148

Liora’s office always smelled like lemon oil and ink. She was Richard’s personal accountant, a former Pack analyst who left the Council payroll years ago but still knew more about its backdoors than anyone on staff.

The ledgers she handed me weren’t just clean, they were curated. Each line was hand-copied from digital sources to keep them off the mainframe. The kind of paranoia that looked eccentric until it saved your life.

She tapped a column with her pen. “They’re using defunct corporations, names that haven’t filed taxes in a decade. But the payment trails don’t end there. They form a loop around the cathedral district. A ring.”

I leaned in. “A containment ring?”

“Or a conduit. The funds aren’t just going out. They’re moving inward, consolidating, laundering themselves through shell accounts that lead to private vaults. Every vault sits at a pressure point on the old city grid.”

I felt my skin prickle. “The bell tower.”

She nodded. “They were feeding it. Or feeding something beneath it.”

I didn’t stop moving for hours after that. I pulled infrastructure maps, zoning diagrams, tunnel schematics from before the Pack’s jurisdiction. Every document came back to the same pattern, six vaults, linked by underground corridors, each intersecting with a major bell node.

When I brought it to the engineers, they didn’t even question it.

“These tunnels could definitely carry a resonance,” one said. “Sound travels best through stone. If they were using controlled vibration, targeted tones, then yeah, this setup could work like a circuit.”

Simon’s expression darkened. “Not just transmission, amplification.”

We sent a drone into one of the disused corridors. The audio log came back with a low, nearly inaudible hum. Harmonic. It wasn’t natural.

Richard convened a closed leadership meeting just after sundown. His tone was clinical and unapologetic.

“This wasn’t a network of isolated actors. This was organized. Funded. Someone weaponized our own infrastructure.”

He laid out the data from the Hollow compounds, the scent-masking vials, the Mooncut pendant, the missing clerks.

Then I stood. I clicked to the next slide and projected my findings. The timing of bell tones aligned almost perfectly with Hollow raids. Subsonic triggers. Syncopated resonance. I explained how the tone frequencies could influence Pack bodies, potentially even manipulate behavior or block mindlink access.

The room didn’t erupt. It tightened. No stunned gasps. Just silence, focused and still.

Councilor Hannish finally said, “What’s your recommendation?”

“We need a new investigative branch,” Richard answered. “Joint oversight between myself and Amelia. Independent staff with special clearances.”

There was no argument, just a nod from the Head of Operations. A murmur of assent from the elders.

It passed.

I didn’t speak again until we were alone on the roof.

The sky hung low, swollen with clouds. Patrol lights blinked in the east. Richard stood beside me, his shoulder brushing mine when the wind shifted. Neither of us said anything for a while.

“I can feel it again,” I said finally. “The heat. It’s not just lingering, it’s building.”

He didn’t pretend to be surprised. “I know.”

“It’s not normal.”

“No.”

I turned toward him. “Then why haven’t you said anything?”

He looked at me fully. “Because you’re still pretending you can handle it alone.”

“I have handled it.”

“You were crying on the floor two nights ago, Amelia.”

I flinched. “You left me there.”

“You didn’t ask me to stay.”

I took a step closer. “You think I want this? You think I enjoy not knowing when I’ll snap?”

He reached out. His fingers brushed the inside of my wrist. “I think you’re scared. And you’d rather fight me than admit it.”

I slapped his hand away. “Fuck you.”

“You already did.”

I didn’t think. I grabbed his collar and kissed him, hard.

He shoved me against the wall and kissed me deeper. My hands fumbled his belt. His fingers yanked my pants down. He dropped to his knees and buried his mouth between my legs before I could take a breath.

I gasped. My knees buckled. He growled low and gripped my thighs tighter, pulling me closer. His tongue licked deep, slow at first, then faster, more focused, until my whole body clenched.

I came like that, loud and sudden. I didn’t even try to stay quiet. The orgasm only made it worse. I was still panting when he stood and turned me around.

“Hands on the wall.”

I obeyed. My palms met cold concrete. My hips pushed back on instinct. I needed more. He took his time. Ran the head of his cock along my entrance. Slid just an inch inside. Then pulled back. Teasing.

“Please,” I whispered. “I need it. I need you.”

He pushed in slowly. I moaned. The stretch burned and I welcomed it. He sank into me, inch by inch, until I was full and shaking.

He paused there. Buried deep, letting me feel it. Letting me throb around him. Then he pulled back and thrust again. Harder. He did it again. A slow rhythm, deep and grinding.

I arched with each push. Moaned when he bottomed out. He leaned forward, one hand braced beside mine, the other wrapped around my hip. His thrusts picked up. Not punishing, but relentless.

He reached between my legs, fingers slicking across my clit. I cried out, already climbing again. He circled it harder, timed with every thrust.

I came, shaking, pulsing around him, legs barely holding. He didn't stop.

He bent me lower. One hand at the back of my neck. Fucked me faster. Each slap of skin was louder now, sharp and filthy in the night air.

My body folded, and he lifted one of my legs to change the angle. I screamed. I came again, clenched so tight around him I felt him twitch.

He kept going. I was incoherent. Babbling. Telling him yes, telling him don’t stop, telling him I needed it more than anything.

He dragged me off the wall and turned me to face him. I was crying from how raw it felt. He kissed me, walked me backward to the bench, sat down, and pulled me into his lap.

“Ride me,” he said. “Take what you need.”

I did. I rocked down onto him, slow at first, then faster. My hands gripped his shoulders, my thighs shaking as I bounced on him.

I came again like that. Twice. He held me down through it, thrusting up into me while I whined and gasped, completely gone.

His hands found my throat, gentle but firm. “You’re burning up.”

“I can’t stop,” I whispered. “Don’t let me stop.”

He wrapped his arms around me, stood with me still on him, and braced me against the side of the bench. He fucked me upright, my back to his chest, one arm across my chest, the other between my legs. He made me come again like that. Screaming. Collapsing.

Only when I was wrung out and shaking did he finally lose it. He spilled inside me with a groan and didn’t let go.

We sank to the ground together. Still joined. Still breathing like we’d been running.

He kissed my shoulder. “I’ll talk to Simon. We need more answers.”

I nodded. The heat wasn’t gone. It was still rising.