Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

91 Chapter 91

91 Chapter 91

Seraphina’s POV 1

The command center buzzed with controlled tension as dawn broke over the eastern border. | stood beside

Damien at the central tactical display, watching dozens of red dots move across the digital map like predators

circling their prey. Each dot represented a scout position, carefully hidden among the trees and rocky

outcroppings that dotted our territorial boundary.

Twenty-four hours had passed since we'd implemented my strategy, and my nerves felt stretched tighter

than a bowstring.

“Still no movement from the main rogue force,” Lucas reported from his position at the communications

console, his voice carrying the exhaustion we all felt after maintaining this vigil through the night. “But our

scouts are reporting increased chatter from the smaller groups. They're definitely taking the bait.”

| wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly grateful for the thick sweater I'd thrown on. The command

center was kept deliberately cool to prevent the electronic equipment from overheating, but the chill seemed

to seep into my bones as we waited for our gamble to either pay off spectacularly or fail catastrophically.

“Second thoughts?” Damien asked quietly, his voice pitched low enough that only | could hear it.

| looked up at him, taking in the lines of stress around his silver-blue eyes, the way his jaw was clenched with

barely controlled tension.

“No,” | said firmly, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

“Alpha,” ca crackling voice through the radio, urgent but controlled. “This is Scout Team Seven. We've got

movement on the northern ridge. Large group, maybe forty rogues, approaching what they think is an

undefended section.”

The entire command center went silent except for the electronic hum of equipment. Damien moved to the radio

with fluid grace, his entire demeanor shifting into the commanding presence that had made him the most

powerful Alpha King in living memory.

“Copy, Scout Seven. Maintain concealment and report when they begin crossing into our territory.”

My hands were shaking slightly as | watched the tactical display update with new information. Forty rogues

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was a significant force-large enough to overwhelm a normal patrol, but small enough to retreat quickly if

they encountered serious resistance.

“There,” | whispered, pointing to the screen as new contacts appeared. “Look at the formation they're using.”

Lucas joined us at the display, his sharp eyes analyzing the enemy movement patterns. “They're not spreading

out for territorial occupation,” he said slowly, understanding dawning in his voice. “They're staying in tight

formation, ready for rapid withdrawal.”

The racrackled again. “Alpha, this is Scout Team Three. We have eyes on a second group moving through

the western pass. Approximately thirty rogues, stight formation as the first.”

“And there’s the confirmation,” | murmured. “Multiple simultaneous probes to force us to split our response.”

Damien was already moving, his tactical mind racing ahead to the next phase of our counter-strategy. “All

teams, maintain concealment until further orders. Do not engage unless directly threatened.”

“Sir,” cthe questioning voice of one of the younger officers, “shouldn’t we be moving to intercept? If we

let them penetrate deeper into our territory...”

“We let them think they've succeeded,” Damien said firmly. “Everyone hold position and trust the plan.”

The next hour passed like an eternity. | watched the red dots on our tactical display inch deeper into our

territory, each movement representing rogues who thought they were exploiting our weakness. Every

instinct | had screamed atto send our warriors after them, to stop the invasion before it could gain

momentum.

“Alpha,” Scout Team Seven reported, their voice tight with barely controlled excitement. “The northern group has

reached the decoy supply depot. They're... they're not taking anything. They're just observing and taking

notes.”

| felt a rush of vindication so intense it madedizzy. “They're gathering intelligence,” | said to Damien.

“Scout Team Three reports similar activity at the western checkpoint,” Lucas added.

“Then we spring the trap”

The next phase of our plan unfolded with military precision that madeunderstand why Damien

commanded such fierce loyalty from his people. Hidden explosive devices that had been carefully positioned

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along the rogues’ most likely retreat routes were armed and ready. Concealed warriors moved into flanking

positions that would cut off escape routes while leaving the enemy with only one apparent path to safety-a

path that led directly through our kill zone.

“All teams, prepare for Operation Mousetrap,” Damien commanded through the radio. “Remember, we want

prisoners alive for interrogation. Disable, don’t destroy.”

| watched the tactical display with fascination and growing excitement as our forces moved into position like

pieces on a chessboard. After months of reactive defense, we were finally taking control of the engagement.

“Northern group is beginning their withdrawal,” Scout Team Seven reported. “They're heading straight for the

canyon route, just like predicted.”

“Western group is also pulling back,” confirmed Scout Team Three. “They're moving fast, but they're following

the path of least resistance exactly as anticipated.”

My heart was racing as | watched the coordinated retreat that would lead both rogue groups directly into our

carefully prepared ambush. Everything was proceeding exactly as | had predicted, but | couldn't shake the

fear that something would go wrong at the last second.

The racrackled with urgent updates as both rogue groups moved deeper into our trap. “Northern group

approaching the primary kill zone... now entering the canyon... charges are armed and ready...”

“Western group is thirty seconds behind them,” cthe second report. “All units in position.”

“Execute Operation Mousetrap,” Damien commanded.

What followed was chaos coordinated with surgical precision. The explosions that erupted along the canyon

route were carefully calibrated to disable rather than kill-enough force to knock the rogues unconscious or

inflict non-fatal injuries, but not enough to completely destroy our opportunity for intelligence gathering.

Through the command center's speakers, we could hear the sounds of the ambush unfolding; shouted orders

from our warriors, the confused cries of trapped rogues, the controlled violence of a perfectly executed tactical

operation.

“Northern group is down!” Scout Team Seven reported with barely contained excitement. “Fifteen casualties,

twelve prisoners, minimal friendly fire. The remaining rogues are surrendering.”

“Western group neutralized as well,” confirmed Scout Team Three. “Twenty prisoners, eight casualties. They

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never saw us coming.”

The command center erupted in cheers and congratulations, but all I could focus on was the relief flooding

through my system. It had worked.

“Sera,” Damien said, his voice thick with emotion that madelook up at him in surprise.

Before | could say anything, he sweptup in his arms, liftingclean off my feet and spinningaround

in a circle that madelaugh despite the tears streaming down my face. The entire command center was

watching us, but | couldn't bring myself to care about protocol or dignity.

“You brilliant, incredible woman,” he said, settingdown but keeping his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“You did it. You actually did it.”

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