The General's Daughter: The Mission-Chapter 126: Midnight

Lara took the trembling bundle from Liam, cradling it automatically against her chest. Up close, it wasn’t just a blur of black fur anymore — it was all sharp little bones, small paws, and wild, blue eyes that didn’t belong to anything domesticated.

Mud clung to its coat. One ear was nicked. Its tiny sides heaved with shallow, panicked breaths.

"It’s a male," she said, lifting it carefully to check underneath, completely unfazed by the fact that the creature was trying very hard to look vicious.

She tilted it toward the light spilling from the green canopy above, studying its features with surprising seriousness. "How did you even end up out here, huh?"

"Sis, it’s probably one of the estate dogs’ litters," Logan said, shrugging. "I saw a few German Shepherds roaming near the stables yesterday."

Lara didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, tracking the shape of the muzzle, the set of the ears, the thickness of the paws — details most people wouldn’t even notice.

Then she shook her head.

"No," she said quietly. "This isn’t a dog."

All three brothers looked at each other.

Lara looked up, her expression suddenly sharp.

"This is a wolf pup."

"A wolf pup?" Liam and Lucas echoed at the exact same time, disbelief threading through their voices.

"In the middle of the estate?" Logan added, frowning.

Lara adjusted her hold as the tiny creature let out a weak, raspy sound — not quite a growl anymore, more like a broken protest.

Up close, she could feel the heat radiating off its body, the subtle tremor running through it.

"Yes," she said softly, her earlier certainty replaced with concern. "And he’s hurt."

Carefully, she parted the fur along its side. Dark, sticky blood matted the coat beneath, revealing a shallow but ugly wound — probably from shrapnel.

The pup tried to snap again, but the effort fizzled halfway, its strength clearly gone.

Lara’s jaw tightened.

"Looks like he got caught in the crossfire earlier," she murmured, thumb brushing lightly over the uninjured part of its head in an oddly tender gesture. "Poor little thing."

"This estate is miles from the mountains," Lucas said, scanning the dark tree line as if expecting glowing eyes to appear between the trunks. "How did a wolf even end up here?"

"It’s still the hunting season," Logan replied grimly. "Someone from a nearby property probably hunted the mother. This one bolted and got lucky... or unlucky, depending on how you look at it."

"Sis, what are you planning to do with that thing?" Lucas asked, eyeing the bundle in her arms like it might suddenly bite someone important. "And how are you even sure it’s a wolf? Looks like a black puppy to me."

Lara lowered her gaze to the small body pressed against her, her expression softening in a way the brothers almost never saw — not on battlefields, not in boardrooms, not anywhere.

Up close, the differences were obvious.

"Wolf pups aren’t built like dogs," she said quietly, adjusting her hold so the tiny head rested in the crook of her elbow.

"See the proportions? The head is bigger. The paws are oversized — they grow into them. Longer legs, lean body, deep chest." Her fingers brushed lightly over one rounded ear. "And the ears... shorter, thicker, heavily furred. Built for the wild, not someone’s backyard."

Lucas leaned in despite himself, squinting like he might suddenly develop wolf expertise by proximity.

"Huh. It really looked like a puppy to me."

The pup didn’t growl this time. It didn’t even try. It just trembled — exhausted, hurting, but stubbornly awake. Its pale blue eyes stayed open, locked on Lara’s face like she was the only solid thing left in the world.

"I’ll take him back to the mansion first," she continued. "Get him cleaned up. Then I’ll ask Ares if I can bring Midnight back to Lanura."

"Midnight?" Liam repeated, one brow lifting. "You named it already?"

Lara nodded without hesitation, thumb absently stroking the pup’s muddy fur.

"Of course. Look at him."

The tiny body was almost pure black, swallowing the light, like a piece of night torn loose and given a heartbeat.

"Don’t you think it fits?"

Logan studied the pup for a moment — the dark coat, the fierce little eyes, the way it clung to life despite everything.

"...Yeah," he said finally. "It does."

In her arms, the pup gave a faint shiver, pressing closer as if recognizing the sound of its new name — or maybe just the warmth of the person holding it.

Either way, it didn’t fight anymore.

Liam’s jaw tightened. He gave a short nod, then turned away from them, instincts snapping back into combat mode. His gaze swept the orchard — not casually, but methodically, like a soldier mapping a kill zone.

The morning carried the faint metallic tang of blood. Broken twigs. Scuffed soil. A gouge in the bark at shoulder height where a blade had struck and missed.

To most people, it would look like a mess. To him, it was a story.

"The Zuvels have collected a lot of enemies," Liam said at last, voice low, edged with cold certainty. "You don’t stage an assassination in broad daylight unless you’re desperate... or sending a message."

"Ares has even more enemies than we do," Logan added, stepping a few paces away to examine a patch of churned earth. He crouched, brushing aside loose dirt with his fingers. "Corporate wars just wear suits instead of uniforms. Same stakes. Same body count."

He glanced toward the mansion, white paint blazing like a fortress under siege.

"Sometimes worse."

Logan moved to the far side of the clearing, eyes sharp, shoulders tense. The easygoing brother was gone — replaced by someone precise, calculating, dangerous.

They weren’t sightseeing anymore.

All three of them were hunting now. They were tracking.

Not for animals but for answers.

Whoever had orchestrated the attack hadn’t just tried to eliminate Ares — they’d violated Zuvel ground. Crossed a line that men like them treated as sacred.

Not ever.

And somewhere out there, the people responsible were still breathing.

For now.