The Omega and The Arrogant Alpha (by Kylie) novel Chapter 344

Landon steps in without knocking, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Communication logs show a few rerouted messages over the last week,” he says. “Nothing overt. Just redirected through alternate messengers.”

“Voluntarily?” I ask.

“Claimed to be convenience.”

Convenience.

The word sits wrong.

“Convenience is how leaks justify themselves,” I murmur.

The bond tightens faintly at that, not alarmed, but attentive.

“If someone is feeding information out,” Landon says slowly, “they’re doing it carefully.”

“Yes,” I reply. “Which means they expect us to notice eventually.”

He studies me for a long moment. “You think this is about us.”

“I think it is about perception of weakness,” I answer. “And perception becomes leverage.”

Silence settles between us, heavy but not panicked.

“Then we do not confront yet,” he says.

“No,” I agree. “We watch.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in controlled motion. I walk through the residential wing, checking in on families under the guise of routine conversation, asking about repairs, about children’s training schedules, about nothing and everything at once. I watch eyes. I measure tone. Most interactions are normal, warm even, but a few linger too long, a few wolves glance away just a fraction too quickly.

It is not enough to accuse.

But it is enough to confirm that tension has not dissolved, it has only settled deeper.

By evening the mist has lifted entirely, leaving the ground slick and dark, and I head back upstairs to change out of damp clothes. I peel the training shirt over my head and step into the shower again, washing away mud and the faint metallic scent of unease that seems to cling to the day.

As water runs over my skin, I let myself acknowledge the weight pressing at the edges of my mind.

Someone is watching us.

Someone is testing both our borders and our bond.

When I step back into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, Landon is standing by the window again, posture tense.

“There was another movement report,” he says without turning. “Eastern line this time. Brief. Controlled.”

My pulse steadies instead of spikes.

“They’re triangulating,” I say quietly. “Measuring reaction across multiple points.”

“Yes.”

The bond hums stronger now, not frantic, but aligned in shared recognition.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify