Chapter 17
Caelan
“Iknew it. I fucking knew she was working with him.” Dax curses between panting breaths that tell me he’s running. “Fuck, Caelan. We’ll be there in thirty minutes. Just hang on.”
I can’t respond. Can’t take a chance to explain that Idril has nothing to do with what’s happening. That she’s as much a pawn as I am. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t dare bring attention to the device in my ear.
I can’t chance that Dax or the others might miss something important if Varenthrall finds the unit.
Varenthrall.
My fangs fucking throb at the thought of ripping his throat from his neck.
The asshole’s got Idril by the wrists, arms yanked behind her in a grip that’s obviously meant to be painful.
My brave girl refuses to let even a whimper pass her lips. Her silent defiance in the face of her father’s brutality is louder than any sound of pain she could make.
At Varenthrall’s order, three males step forward to strip me of my weapons and gear. Knives clatter as they’re thrown to the marble. My sidearm follows and I wince.
I stay silent, despite Dax still barking in my ear, demanding answers.
If he takes a fucking second to think, he’ll realize why I’m not answering. The comms is flesh-toned and small. If I get lucky and these assholes are as dumb as I suspect, there’s a good chance they’ll miss it.
All I have to do is keep my mouth shut and play my cards right. I’ve been in much tighter spots than this.
Another utility knife goes flying into the growing pile, and one of the Alphas pulls out the curved dagger I keep in the side of my boot. Another idiot yelps when he snatches a pair of cuffs that Dax rigged with a particularly painful electric charge that can be triggered up to thirty feet away.
He bites out a curse and drops them to the floor, flapping his wrist like it’s on fire. I cough out a laugh. I wish I could see his expression, but unfortunately, I’m belly down, face pressed into the stone.
My outburst earns me a swift kick to the ribs. I roll my eyes.
Sure, these guys are Alphas, but unless they’re packing silver, there’s very few ways they could get me down and keep me there.
They might slow me, even make it hurt as they do, but I can shake off most injuries—including a bullet wound.
The poor saps never have accepted how much fucking higher on the food chain we are than them.
For now, I force myself to go along with this charade. I just have to keep calm and play the game until the Bastards show with backup.
I especially can’t do anything to put Idril in more danger than she’s already in. That’s one line I won’t cross. My instincts scream at the thought of more harm coming to my Omega. A protective rage simmers through my blood, impossible to ignore.
Apparently, I’m not the only one feeling protective.
Our Bond is pulsing with indignation, radiating straight from Idril. The fact that this tiny Omega is seething with incredulity as she watches her father’s men divest me of my weapons has me falling for her even more.
Every part of me—the Alpha, the vampire, the male—is urging me to snatch her up, tuck her into my body, and run. Leave, get her somewhere safe, then come back and rip every fucker who’s ever looked at her twice to pieces until nothing remains her, me, and the fire raging between us.
“Stop.” Varenthrall raises a hand, putting an end to the chaos. Instead of simply releasing Idril, the useless piece of shit uses his weight as leverage and tosses her to the floor.
She barely gets her hands out to catch herself before she falls on her face. The smack of her palms hitting the marble is loud. My muscles tense, ready to attack.
Varenthrall crosses the floor like he’s got all the time in the world. His expensive shoes appear in front of me, and he crouches down to loom over me. His lips curl into a patronizing smile, and he leans forward.
His hand stills, hovering in the air right next to my ear.
Fuck.
“I told her what would happen, you know. I told her exactly how this would go and she followed each of my directions beautifully,” he murmurs, like he’s telling me a secret. His smile widens into a grin. His eyes brighten with a calculating gleam.
I’m trying to make sense of his words when realization washes over me too fucking late
His words don’t make sense because they’re not fucking supposed to. Not to me. Not to anyone who knows the truth. He’s lying. Making it sound like a taunt while implying Idril set me up.
This fucking asshole! Why?!
“SHE’S NOT-”
I try to get the truth to Dax, but I’m too slow. Varenthrall rips the unit out of my ear mid-sentence, crushing it between his fingers.
Godsdamnit!
Alright, fuck this guy. I’ve had enough.
Dax will be here soon, and he’ll bring backup. Idril’s terror is palpable, eating away at something inside of me and making my instincts spiral. My Alpha snarls, already sick of the games.
Mine. Protect!
With a grin, I give into my instincts and fight.
I twist to the left, throwing my weight back and into the asshole lying on my spine.
Varenthrall must see the shift in my expression. Before I’ve much as twitched, he retreats, backing swiftly out of my way like the fucking coward he is.
The Alpha I shove off me grunts at the impact. I use the momentum to drive him forward, forcing his shoulder into the guard to my right. That one lets out a wheezing gasp as the air’s knocked out of his lungs. His hands fly to his gut and he crumples to the ground.
Now that I have space to move, I surge to my feet.
A third Alpha makes a grab for me, but he’s far too slow. I catch his wrist mid-grab, twist, and snap the bone clean in two.
The scream of pain he releases is fucking beautiful, echoing through the high ceilings like a hymn.
He cradles his wrist where it dangles grotesquely and I toss him a smirk.
This is more like it.
There’s no time to rest. Another asshole comes at me from behind, and I pivot. My gaze zeroes in on the dagger holstered at his belt.
Jackpot.
The moron doesn’t even try to cover his side as I drop to one knee, fingers closing around the hilt, and spin back around just in time to stab up and into the ribs of a fifth Alpha as he lunges for me.
With a near silent grunt of pain, he drops.
My adrenaline pulses. The smile on my face probably looks unhinged, but fuck it. This is why I prefer steel over lead. The deaths are just so much sweeter, every fucking time.
After that, the fight turns into more of a hunt.
With steel in my hand and heat in my blood, I cut down the remaining guards one after another. The air turns thick with the scent of iron, and my boots slip through blood, but I keep on killing, carving a path between me and the only thing that matters.
Idril.
Panting, I sweep my gaze around the room, gauging how many more assholes are left to put down. Varenthrall’s moved halfway across the room toward entryway—
Holding Idril in front of him like a human shield.
His lips move. He says something about a gun, but the sounds bounce off the marble, and my brain doesn’t register them until his shout cuts through the chaos like thunder.
“Get the Silver!”
No.
No, no, fuck no. It’s not possible.
My blood chills. How the fuck does this asshole have silver? How could he possibly know—
The Severed. Of fucking course.
Only they know that secret, and Varenthrall’s working with them.
I barely have time to work through the implications when the sound of a gunshot cracks through the air.
Pain explodes through my leg as the silver burns a searing path through my flesh. My nerves scream in agony, like acid eating through muscle and skin.
This shit won’t kill me, but if Varenthrall wanted me incapacitated, he got his Fatesdamned wish.
My leg buckles as I fall to the floor with a roar of agony. Before anything else, I force myself to check that the bullet isn’t lodged in my muscle.
Entry wound. Exit wound.
The wound is gushing dark red blood, but thank the gods it passed through. If it’d lodged into my muscle or bone, it would have worked through my bloodstream, and if not removed, I’d be dead in an hour.
A shot that’s through and through is survivable, even if it hurts like a bitch.
I groan, but through the haze of pain, my instincts perk up, warning me that something has shifted. The warmth in my chest—the churning, overflowing silver pool—has gone cold. Frozen.
Like something reached into my chest and turned it into ice.
And the air—the air is…
Gone.
Vanished, as if yanked away by some unseen force. I struggle to breathe, but my lungs seize.
There’s no oxygen. No pressure.
Around me, the guards that aren’t dead are starting to panic. Hands fly to chests and clutch at necks as confusion bleeds into terror.
Varenthrall seems the most confused of all, his face drained of color. His smug expression is gone, replaced by fury and fear.
The suffocation feels like it goes on forever, but in reality, only lasts a few seconds.
Just as I start to commiserate with Silas and his time in that coffin… Idril screams.
The sound she releases isn’t human. It isn’t Omega. It isn’t anything I’ve ever heard before.
It’s old. Ancient. The sound of something that’s been asleep for thousands of years and just woke up fucking furious.
Rage, grief, and denial collide, coalescing into a single unending note that explodes through the air.
The windows splinter, cracks racing across the expansive surface, growing faster and faster, before erupting into spinning slivers of light.
Shards hang suspended in the air for a single breath before they fall, raining down around us like glittering diamonds
A horrifying screech comes from above. My eyes snap up, following the sound and widen at the sight of the chandelier swinging precariously on its chain. Hundreds of shimmering crystals pop and shatter into jagged shards as the light fixture tears from the ceiling.
It swings precariously by half-severed wiring—like a hanged man swaying from the branch of an old oak tree.
What the fuck is happening?