The iron door groaned open as I stepped into the underground chamber.
The cold air hit me like a wall—dense with the scent of blood, piss, sweat, and despair. It clung to the walls, to the chains, to the stone floor where so many had broken before. A place for beasts and monsters. A place where mercy didn’t exist.
My boots echoed, each step a steady threat as I walked into the room.
He was slumped in the chair, bound in silver-coated shackles. The rogue was barely holding on—his body a mess of torn flesh, bruises, and blood-soaked rags. One eye swollen shut. Breathing uneven. His life hung by a thread, and yet… he still clung to defiance like it might save him.
I stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, gaze locked on him like a blade unsheathed.
My wolf stirred violently beneath my skin, pacing, snarling, demanding retribution. This wasn’t just about the attack. This was about what they’d taken—our safety, our people, the clairvoyant. The last thread connecting us to the truth.
“Talk,” I ordered, voice sharp as steel. “Tell me who sent you.”
He gave a raspy laugh, low and pained. It broke off into a wet cough. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, but somehow—somehow—he still managed to smirk.
“I’d rather die,” he rasped, baring his teeth.
I snapped.
I crossed the distance in two strides, crouched, and grabbed his chin with enough force to bruise. I yanked his face up so he had no choice but to meet my eyes.
“You think death is an escape?” I said, voice low, lethal. “I can promise you—it’s not. I’ll keep you alive longer than you ever thought possible. Long enough for you to beg me to end it.”
His bravado faltered. His jaw trembled beneath my fingers.
But he stayed silent.
I released him with disgust, standing tall again. “Fine,” I said coldly. “Slow and painful it is.”
“Xavier.”
My Beta stepped forward silently from the shadows, dagger already in hand. The blade was old, jagged along the edge—designed to tear, not cut. Light glinted along the steel as Xavier turned it in his fingers with eerie calm.
“I don’t have all day,” I said, voice as still as a storm’s eye. “One last time. Who sent you?”
Nothing.
The bastard just glared at me with what was left of his strength.
Xavier sighed. “Tough guy.” Then, without warning, he plunged the blade deep into the rogue’s thigh.
The scream ripped through the chamber, echoing off stone like a wounded animal’s death cry. The rogue’s back arched. Blood poured. He convulsed as Xavier twisted the blade slowly, methodically.
“I can do this all night,” Xavier said casually, voice devoid of emotion. “You? Not so much.”
I stepped forward again, both hands gripping the armrests of the chair, leaning in close.
“Talk.” My voice dropped into a growl. “Who. Sent. You?”
He panted, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face. His good eye rolled for a second, dazed—then locked onto mine.
And then… he broke.
He licked his dry, cracked lips. “Lucien,” he whispered.
My blood went still.
My entire body stiffened.
Inside, my wolf let out a bone-deep howl of rage. I felt my claws itching beneath the surface, my canines threatening to extend.
“What did you say?” I asked, my voice too calm to be safe.
The rogue coughed again, choking on blood and spit. “Lucien,” he said louder, this time with panic edging into his voice. “Lucien sent me. He—he told us where to go. Who to hit. Said… said to make sure the clairvoyant didn’t live through it.”
I stood tall again, forcing air into my lungs, trying to steady the storm tearing through me.
Lucien.