-Adrian-
The interrogation room reeks fear, blood, wolfsbane and silver.
"This scent brings memories," Nox growls inside my mind. "The hunter becomes the hunted."
"Justice, not vengeance," I remind him, though the line blurs with each passing moment.
Roxie sits chained to the metal chair, her designer blouse torn and splattered with crimson, her once-perfect makeup smeared across her face. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps, her body trembling from the silver I've introduced to her system.
"Let's try this again," I say, my voice dangerously soft as I circle her like the predator I am. "What is Amos planning?"
She spits blood onto the concrete floor, her eyes burning with defiance despite her weakened state. "Go to hell."
I smile without humor, picking up the silver-tipped prod I've been using for the past hour. "You first."
When I press it against her arm, she screams—a raw, primal sound that echoes off the walls. The silver burns through her skin, leaving another weeping wound to join the dozens already marking her body. The scent of burning flesh fills the room, acrid and thick.
"Her pain is nothing compared to what she inflicted on the child," Nox rumbles, satisfaction coloring his thoughts.
"You know," I say conversationally, removing the prod, "this could end anytime you want. Just tell me what I need to know."
Roxie's laugh is wet with blood. "You think this is torture? Amos would make this look like a spa day."
"Is that so?" I lean closer, letting her see the predator in my eyes. "Then let me get more creative."
I pull out a small vial of clear liquid. "Do you know what this is?" I ask, holding it up to the harsh light. "Distilled wolfsbane mixed with silver nitrate. One drop on an open wound will feel like your blood is boiling from the inside out."
"She fears it," Nox observes, sensing the shift in her scent. "Her heart races. She knows what's coming."
"Good. Fear loosens tongues faster than pain alone."
I see the fear in her eyes before she can mask it.
"Last chance," I warn, unscrewing the cap. "What is Amos planning?"
Her lips press into a thin line, stubborn to the end.
I shrug. "Your choice."
The scream when the first drop hits her open wound is unlike anything I've heard before—pure agony given voice. Her body convulses against the restraints, veins bulging beneath her skin as the poison works through her system. The chains rattle violently as she thrashes, her back arching so severely I hear her spine crack.
I wait until her screams subside into whimpering gasps before speaking again. "Ready to talk? Or should I try another wound?"
"F-fuck you," she manages, though the conviction in her voice is wavering.
"Wrong answer."
Another drop. Another scream. This time, blood vessels burst in her eyes, turning the whites crimson. A thin stream of blood trickles from her nose, and I can smell the acrid scent of urine as her body loses control.
"Amos," she gasps when she can speak again. "He'll kill me."
"I'll kill you," I counter, "if you don't start talking. And I promise, I'll make it much more painful than this."
The third application breaks her. I place it directly on the exposed muscle of her thigh where I'd earlier carved away a strip of flesh.
"TRAFFICKING!" she screams as the poison burns through her. "He's trafficking supernatural beings!"
"We knew this already," Nox growls impatiently.
I set the vial down, giving her a moment to recover. "I already know that. I need details. Locations. Shipments. Plans."
She shakes her head weakly, blood and saliva dripping from her mouth. "You don't understand. It's not just about money. It's about their blood."
"Explain," I demand, picking up the vial again as motivation.
"Elara," she gasps, eyeing the poison with naked fear. "She was the first Fae he took. A test subject."
"For what?"
"His serum. He's trying to create the perfect werewolf—immortal, invincible."
I narrow my eyes. "And the Fae blood helps with this?"
She nods frantically. "Their magic stabilizes the transformation. Without it, the werewolf subjects die... messily."
"How many wolves has he killed testing this serum?" I ask, my voice deadly calm.
"Dozens," she admits, her voice hollow. "Maybe hundreds. They're all werewolves—the ones he experiments on. The others—the Fae, vampires, elves—they're just blood banks. Living ingredients."
"HUNDREDS?" Nox roars inside my mind, his fury so intense it nearly blinds me. "Our kin slaughtered like cattle for his madness!"
The casual way she says it—like discussing weather rather than mass murder—makes my rage spike. I grip her throat, claws extending to prick her skin.
"And you just went along with it?" I snarl, Nox pushing dangerously close to the surface. "Helped him kidnap and drain innocent beings? Watched as he butchered wolves?"
"What choice did I have?" she chokes out. "It was either work with him or become another test subject."
I release her with disgust. "You always have a choice. You chose profit over innocent lives."
Her laugh is bitter. "Easy to judge from your ivory tower, Alpha."
"End her," Nox demands.
"Not yet," I counter, though it costs me to deny him. "She still has value as a source of information."
"What's next in his plan?" I demand, ignoring her barb.
She hesitates, calculating again, and I reach for the vial.
"Wait!" she cries, panic flaring. "There's a shipment coming! Three days from now. More Fae, Elves, even some Sirens."
"Where?"
"The abandoned warehouse district by the old ferry terminal. Midnight."
I study her face, looking for any sign of deception. "How many guards?"
"At least twenty," she says quickly. "Plus whatever experimental freaks he's created."
"How many in the shipment?"
"I don't know exact numbers. Dozens, at least."
I pace the room, processing this information. If what she's saying is true, we have three days to prepare for an assault on Amos's operation.
"Is Amos going to be there personally?" I press.
She nods, fear making her cooperative now. "He always inspects the special merchandise himself."
"Special merchandise?"
"The ones with the purest bloodlines, the strongest magic. The ones most likely to survive his experiments."
"He speaks of living beings as if they were objects," Nox growls.
A cold fury settles in my gut. Special merchandise. As if these beings are nothing but commodities to be traded and consumed.
"Who else is involved?" I demand. "Names."
She shakes her head frantically. "I don't know! Amos compartmentalizes everything. I just handle the... entertainment side."
"You mean forcing children into sexual slavery," I correct coldly.
"Business is business," she says, though there's no conviction in her voice now.
"BUSINESS?" Nox roars, his fury breaking through my control. "She sold children's bodies and calls it BUSINESS?"
Something in me snaps. I grab the vial and empty the remaining contents onto her chest, watching dispassionately as she writhes and screams. The liquid sizzles through her clothing, eating into flesh beneath. The stench of burning tissue fills the room as her skin blackens and peels away, revealing the muscle and sinew beneath.
"Business," I spit, disgusted. "You're a monster, Roxie. Just like him."
When her screams finally subside into broken sobbing, I lean close to her ear. "If I find out you've lied about any of this, I'll come back and finish what we've started here. Do you understand?"
She nods weakly, all defiance gone.
I turn to leave, pausing at the door. "One more thing. What happens to the werewolves who survive the initial experiments?"
Her bloodshot eyes meet mine, and the emptiness in them sends a chill down my spine.
"They become something new," she whispers. "Not entirely wolf anymore. Something... worse. And Amos controls them completely."
The implications settle over me like a shroud. If Amos has managed to create even one successful hybrid under his control, we could be facing something far more dangerous than mere guards.
I leave without another word, the stench of blood and fear clinging to my clothes. In the corridor outside, Asher waits, his expression grim.
"Did she talk?" he asks.
"Eventually." I wipe blood from my hands with a cloth. "We have three days to prepare. Get the team ready."
"And Roxie?"
I glance back at the closed door, remembering the broken woman inside—a monster of her own making, but a tool for our purposes now.
"She deserves death," Nox insists. "Slow, painful death for what she's done."
"Keep her alive," I decide. "She might know more than she's telling us. And when this is over, she faces Fae justice for what she did to Elara."
We walk in silence down the dimly lit corridor of the detention wing, my boots echoing against the concrete floor. The weight of what I've just done—what I've learned—sits heavy on my shoulders.
As we pass another section of cells, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.
"Well, if it isn't the illustrious Alpha, slumming it with the prisoners."
I stop cold, my muscles tensing at the sound of Tanner's voice. He's leaning against the bars of his cell, a smirk playing on his lips despite the bruises still healing on his face from our last encounter.
"The one who touched our mate," Nox growls, instantly alert, his rage shifting targets. "The one who DARED."
"Control," I warn myself, though I feel my resolve weakening. "We can't kill him. Not yet."
"Keep walking," Asher mutters, sensing the dangerous shift in my mood.
But Tanner isn't done. "How's that little mate of mine? Just thinking about her perfect little body under mine is getting me real hard."
"KILL HIM!" Nox roars, his fury exploding through my defenses. "TEAR HIS THROAT OUT!"
The world goes red.
Before Asher can stop me, I'm at the cell door, slamming it open with enough force to dent the wall behind it. Tanner barely has time to register surprise before my hand closes around his throat, lifting him off the ground.
"You don't speak about her," I growl, my voice barely human. "You don't even think about her."
Despite the fear in his eyes, Tanner forces a choked laugh. "Touched a nerve, did I? What's wrong, Alpha? Afraid she might remember what a real wolf feels like once I get my hands on her again?"
"END HIM!" Nox demands, his voice drowning out all reason. "HE THREATENED OUR MATE!"
My control shatters.
I slam him into the wall, feeling the satisfying crunch of ribs beneath my fist. Again. Again. Each punch punctuated by words ground out between clenched teeth.
"You. Will. Never. Touch. Her."
Blood sprays from his mouth, spattering across my already stained shirt. The scent of it—his pain, his fear—feeds something primal in me.
"You know," Tanner gasps through broken teeth, "she smelled so sweet when I had her pinned. Like she was made to be taken. I'm going to fuck her until she screams my name, until she forgets you ever existed."
"RIP HIM APART!" Nox howls, his bloodlust overwhelming. "MAKE HIM SUFFER!"
"Yes," I agree, no longer fighting my wolf's rage but embracing it. "He dies today."
I roar, a sound that echoes through the entire detention level, and drive my claws into his shoulder, twisting until he screams.
"Adrian!" Asher's voice seems distant, unimportant. "Adrian, stop! You'll kill him!"
"Good," I snarl, watching Tanner's eyes widen as my own shift fully to Nox's golden gaze. I lean in close, letting him see the death waiting for him. "I should have ended you the moment I found out you laid hands on her."
"She's just a Silver Moon bitch," Tanner wheezes, blood bubbling between his lips. Even now, he can't stop himself. "Nothing special. Just another hole to fill. And when I get out of here, I'm going to bend her over and show her what a real Alpha feels like. Maybe I'll even let her keep your mark while I fuck her from behind."
"SLOW DEATH," Nox demands. "MAKE HIM SUFFER AS NO ONE HAS SUFFERED BEFORE."
My hand closes around his throat again, claws piercing skin, drawing five perfect lines of crimson. His pulse hammers against my palm, frantic and desperate.
"You're wrong," I say, my voice deadly calm now as Nox and I merge into something terrifying. "She's everything. And the last thought in your pathetic mind will be knowing you died because you dared to touch what belongs to me."
I begin to squeeze, watching the light start to fade from his eyes, feeling his struggles weaken.
Strong hands grab my shoulders, trying to pull me back.
"Alpha!" Asher shouts, his voice finally breaking through the bloodlust. "This isn't you! Think of Ember—what would she want?"
"KILL HIM!" Nox insists. "PROTECT OUR MATE!"
"Ember..." The name echoes through my mind, bringing with it a flicker of clarity.
More hands join his—Jamison and Killian have appeared, all three of them struggling to pull me away from Tanner.
"Adrian, you can't kill him!" Jamison grunts, straining against my strength. "He's Silver Moon's Alpha heir—it would start a war!"
"I don't care," I growl, not releasing my grip. "He's dead."
"Think of Ember," Asher tries again, his voice urgent. "What happens to her friends if you start a war with her pack?"
"Ember," Nox repeats, his rage faltering at the thought of our mate caught in the crossfire of pack war.
The mention of her name cuts through the rage like nothing else could. I release Tanner, watching him crumple to the floor, gasping and sobbing.
"Get off me," I snarl at my men, who cautiously release their hold but remain tense, ready to intervene again.
"You're right," I say, stepping back and looking down at the broken wolf. "This is too quick. Too merciful."
I crouch beside Tanner, who flinches away from me, genuine terror in his eyes now.
"I want you to live with this knowledge, Tanner," I say softly. "Every breath you take from now on is because I allowed it. Every moment of your miserable existence continues only because death would be a kindness you don't deserve."
I stand, looking down at him with cold contempt. "You'll face justice for your crimes. And when you return to Silver Moon, you'll remember every day that you're alive only because of my mercy."
His eyes narrow through the blood and swelling. "You can't touch me," he wheezes. "I'm Alpha heir. My father—"
"Your father can't save you from me," I cut him off. "Alpha heir or not, if you ever come near my mate again, if you so much as think about her, I'll tear you apart so slowly you'll beg for death long before I grant it."
"When I'm Alpha," Tanner spits blood onto the floor, "I'll have her as my Luna. I'll make her kneel before me every night. I'll breed her until she's swollen with my pups."
"HE STILL THREATENS!" Nox roars, surging forward again. "END HIM NOW!"
I lunge forward again, but this time all three of my men are ready. They grab me, physically dragging me back from the cell.
"He's not worth it!" Asher shouts, struggling to contain me. "Adrian, stop!"
"Let me go!" I roar, my voice shaking the very walls around us.
"Not until you calm down," Jamison grunts, his arms locked around my chest.
"Think of your mate," Killian adds, his voice strained with effort. "What happens to her if you kill Silver Moon's heir?"
Their words finally penetrate the red haze of my rage. I stop struggling, though every muscle in my body remains coiled, ready to strike.
"Get him out of my sight," I growl, jerking away from their restraining hands.
Asher slams Tanner's cell door shut, locking it securely. "We'll increase the guard on him," he says. "No one goes in or out without direct authorization from me."
I nod curtly, my breathing still heavy, my hands trembling with the effort of restraint.
"If he says another word about Ember," I warn, "I won't be responsible for what happens."
"Understood," Asher says, his expression grim. "We'll make sure he keeps his mouth shut."
As I walk away, Tanner's voice follows me, weaker now but still defiant.
"She'll be mine, Adrian! When I'm Alpha, I'll take everything you love!"
"He never learns," Nox growls. "His death is only delayed, not prevented."
"And when the time comes," I promise my wolf, "we'll make it count."
I pause, not turning around. "Asher."
"Yes, Alpha?"
"Make sure he understands the consequences of speaking her name again."
Asher's smile is cold. "With pleasure."
The walk back to my office feels interminable, each step weighed down by the grime of the cells and the horror of what I've learned—what I've done. My skin crawls with it—the stench of Roxie's fear, the sound of Tanner's bones breaking under my fists, the casual way they both spoke about lives they saw as disposable.
I pause, leaning against the wall, trying to center myself. The beast inside me is still too close to the surface, my control hanging by a thread. I can't go to her like this—covered in blood, reeking of violence, the darkness still clinging to me like a second skin.
"She would fear us like this," Nox admits reluctantly. "We are too close to the monster."
I push off the wall and continue toward my quarters. There's blood to wash away, plans to make, and a war to prepare for.
And somewhere in the midst of it all, I need to find a way to tell my mate about the monster who tortured me as a child. That he's out there creating horrors beyond imagination.
And that I'm going to hunt him down, no matter the cost.