Chapter 97
Chapter 97
Xander POV
The scent from her body is burning into my nose, and I follow the first one, it’s snakes down the corridor like smoke from a fire, scorched and ugly. Each scent is a mark of what was done to her. It’s no longer just the physical stench of sweat and skin. Now, I can feel it, all of it, her pain, her silence and her despair. It lives here now, soaked into the floorboards, into the stone, and in the air that I breathe.
I continue to follow that first thread as it winds away from her cell and cuts through the maze of the halls. It’s like following a bloodstained ribbon. My paws hit the ground harder now. I’m not going to rush, I’m making them aware I’m coming for them. I want them to feel the fear before they die, before! even get close to them.
As I near a wooden door, the scent thickens, and I press my weight to it, testing it and listening. There’s a murmur on the other side, it’s low and distracted. I can hear footsteps and the scrape of something metal, then the shuffle of clothes.
I don’t do anything for a moment, I just wait before throwing my full weight into the frame.
Damon, I know him, I’ve met him. He spins around, his eyes are wide, still half-dressed with his belt in his hands like it’s a whip. It’s not, but based on the marks on Serafine, I know that’s what it was used for.
He looks at me, confused for half a second, then the truth dawns on his face as he realises I got inside.
I give my wolf more control, my fury rises fast and I leap toward him, it’s not silent now. My growl rises from my chest and it’s like thunder before a storm. He doesn’t have time to shift, all he has time to do is lift his arms in defense, but it’s too late.
I’m already on him. He barely gets his arms up in time. My jaw closes around his forearm first, and I feel the bone snap cleanly between my teeth. He screams, it’s shrill and high, but it barely reaches my ears. I pull the limb from his body.
Now he can’t shift. I slam him against the wall, his body cracks against the stone, and the belt that he was gripping now drops from his hands. Gripping him with my teeth again, I drag him down. He tries to punch me off with his other arm, but it’s useless.
I grip that arm, and twist hard, and hear it tear. The blood sprays across my muzzle again, and his screaming grows into loud and breathless screeches.
He wants mercy, but did he show Serafine mercy? No, of course he didn’t.
My claws drive into his stomach, it’s messy, not clean. I want him to feel it, to feel every inch like he made her feel. I twist my claws and he cries out as I step back. I watch as he tries to crawl away and that makes my wolf worse, because now I remember her restrained how she had no chance to even try to crawl free.
Placing a paw on his back, I press until his ribs give in under the weight, he gurgles once, shudders then goes completely still.
Standing over him, I stare at his ruined body, that’s one. It’s not enough though, there’s more of them who used her and made her weak and each one will pay.
The next scent is another from Serafine’s skin. It’s a scent that I could smell on her when I first brought her to my pack, not in the same way but it’s someone she had encountered before.
The trail leads me up a narrow staircase and through a room that’s lined with weapons and gear. There he is, on the other side of the window, crouched low. He’s a coward, his body is shaking as he grabs weapons, and stares down at the fight happening outside.
He’s not smirking, he’s looking like he might throw up from the thought of having to fight. Pathetic, he’s brave enough to take something that’s not his, but not brave enough to fight to protect himself from the impact of it?
He’s spending too much time panicking to realise I’m here, that’s good, it means I get close enough to him. When he finally does realise I’m here, it’s too late. I’m close enough my growl reaches the base of his spine.
He turns and notices me and begins to say something, maybe a plea, or an excuse? I don’t give him a chance to. I may have said if people surrender they don’t get hurt, but the men who touched her? Surrender doesn’t save them now. Only death is their way out.
1/2
Chapter 97
My claws catch his leg as he tries to run away. The slice is deep and cuts through muscle and bone. He crashes to the floor with a howl, He twists his body over, panicking and trying to push himself back away from me. He begins kicking at me with his bleeding leg.
His men are weak, he should have shifted by now, but he’s still not.
My jaw grips his ankle and I drag him across the stone floor. The back of his head thuds against the wall from the force and I plant my paw on his chest.
Pinning him down, I stare at him, watching his eyes wid him understand, he’s dying.
hist
body shakes. I let him see me, clearly, all of me, the blood that soaks my fur, to make
“Please! I didn’t touch her, I swear,” he breathes. His voice teles
and he raises his hands in weak surrender. “I just stood guard–I didn’t-”
In a way he did nothing, he did nothing to save her, to help her. But his scent, that’s on her proving he did touch her. So, I’ll do the same, I won’t do anything to save him, to make him feel better, I won’t show him mercy, instead my jaw closes around his neck, and I crush it slowly.
I feel the cartilage shift and snap beneath the pressure. He continues to struggle, his legs kicking, fingers clawing at the air, but I hold firm. His body bucks once, then twice before he goes limp.
His blood pools beneath me, and I step over his mangled body and move on. There’s still more scents to follow, more people to hurt for touching her.
Each hallway I pass carries more of it and the further I go, the heavier it weighs on my chest. The word rage doesn’t feel right anymore, it’s something heavier, darker and more twisted. A hollowing fury that is digging into my bones and shaping the way I breathe and move
I follow each and every trail, some are outside, so I leave them knowing they are dead. Each time I step into a new room, I face another person who touched her, silenced her and scarred her.
Many fight back, but they all try to reason with me at some point, begging for their lives like I should save them and give them mercy.
The outcome is the same, every single one of them die. Some quickly, others slower. i don’t offer second chances, not with something like this.
For every bruise on Serafine’s skin, for every tear I saw that left streaks down her face, I leave another corpse in my wake.
By the time I’m done, the walls are soaked in blood, the floors are covered, and my breath is thick with it as well. My paws are slick, and my fur is clumpy.
My body aches, but I don’t stop because I can’t. She’s still unconscious, and Gideon is still breathing. He won’t be for much longer, though. I’m going to make sure of it.
“We know where he is,” Killian says, and I follow him. One more person to die, then I take her home to where she’s safe.
