Chapter 16
The drive to the warehouse was a blur of rage and headlights. My hands were locked on the wheel so tight the leather threatened to split beneath my grip. Every turn of the tires, every second of distance closing, the fury inside me only grew sharper.
Keller.
The name itself was enough to twist the bond inside me, to make my chest burn with the echo of Sorcha’s fear. She’d tried to hide it, to stay strong, but I’d felt the quake in her when she said his name. I’d seen the shadows flicker across her face, shadows he had carved into her.
And that was unforgivable.
The thought of his hands on her, of him being one of the bastards who chained her, starved her, broke her down, it shredded the last of my restraint. He was already a dead man. The only question was how much of him I would strip away before I let him find that mercy.
The memory of my own chains rose unbidden, sharp as broken glass.
Years back, the Demons had taken me. A strike gone wrong, an ambush in the southern docks.
They hadn’t killed me outright. No, they’d wanted me alive, wanted me weakened, poisoned.
They’d dragged me down into their pits, fed me venom through their claws until my veins burned like acid.
I’d lasted longer than most would have, but it hadn’t mattered because eventually the edges blurred, the darkness crept in, and I’d thought I was finished.
My brothers had saved me. Barely. Roman tearing apart half a nest with his own hands, Draugr carrying me out with his shirt soaked in my blood, Viking and Volken holding the line until we made it back.
I’d lived, but I’d never forgotten. The poison had left its mark, a reminder of how close I’d come. And since then, my brothers had been relentless, watchful, never letting me push too close to the line again.
But tonight, there would be no hesitation. No poison that could weaken me. Only Keller.
The warehouse loomed before me, cold steel and shadows, lit by the pale wash of floodlights. Draugr was already there, his silhouette unmistakable, tall, broad, that predator’s stillness that said he was already half in a killing zone.
“Inside,” he said simply when I approached, his voice low, calm, but his eyes watching me too closely. He knew. He always knew when the rage was about to consume me.
The doors groaned open, and there he was.
Keller.
Tied to a steel chair bolted into the floor, his face already bruised from Draugr’s men softening him up. His lip split, one eye swollen. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
The second his eyes lifted, and I saw the flicker of recognition, the smug curl that said he remembered Sorcha, something malevolent snapped deep within me.
I was on him before he could blink, my hand around his throat, slamming his head back so hard the chair rattled against the concrete. My fangs flashed, my vision narrowed to a tunnel with only him inside.
“You touched her,” I snarled, every word vibrating with fury. “You chained her like an animal. Starved her. Hurt her. And you thought I would let you walk away from it.”
He tried to laugh, but it came out as a wet cough. “She was just one of many. She was a pretty thing, though. Screamed less than the others…”
The sound that tore out of me wasn’t human. My fist crashed into his ribs, bone splintering under the blow. His scream echoed through the steel walls, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close.
I took my time. Breaking him piece by piece. Fingers first, bent backward until they snapped. Then his knees, the crack of shattering bone music to my ears. I wanted him to feel it all, to understand what it meant to lay hands on what was mine.
Blood painted the concrete, sharp in the air. My claws raked across his chest, shallow cuts that burned like fire. I leaned close, whispering in his ear, “Every scream, every drop you shed, it’s still less than what you owe her.”
By the time I stepped back, he was a ruin of a man, gasping, broken, but still alive. Barely.
Draugr stepped forward then, his eyes steady on me, voice deep but even. “Enough, Lucien.”
I rounded on him, blood still dripping from my hands, splattering dark across the concrete floor.
My chest heaved, my vision still edged in red.
The taste of fury was thick on my tongue.
“You think this is enough? You think this bastard deserves to breathe after what he did?” My voice tore from my throat, low, guttural, more beast than man.
Draugr didn’t flinch. He never did. His gaze cut into me like steel, unwavering. “No. He doesn’t deserve to breathe. But if you kill him too fast, he doesn’t suffer. And that’s not justice, brother. That’s mercy.”
My grip tightened on the knife in my hand, the metal slick with Keller’s blood.
My fangs ached with the need to rip, to tear, to end.
I turned back toward Keller’s broken body slumped in the chair, and for a moment, I almost finished it.
Almost drove the blade through his chest just to silence the wet, rasping sound of his breath.
Draugr’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, iron-strong, dragging me back a step. “Look at me.” His voice cracked like a whip.
I met his stare, my body vibrating with the need to fight, to kill, to obliterate everything Keller had ever been. “He touched her, Draugr…He touched her.” My voice broke on the words, the image of Sorcha’s haunted eyes burning behind my skull.
Draugr’s grip tightened, grounding me, dragging me back from the edge. “And he’s paying for it. Every scream, every bone you’ve broken, every drop of blood he’s choking on, it’s all for her. But if you keep going like this, you’ll lose yourself. You’ll go home with nothing left for her but rage.”
His words slammed into me harder than any blow. My breath came rough, uneven. He was right, damn him. Sorcha didn’t need a monster crawling into her bed at night. She needed the man who would bleed the world dry to protect her, not the beast who’d drown her in his fury.
Still, I spat the words through clenched teeth, shaking with the effort of holding myself back. “It’s not enough.”
Draugr’s mouth twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “It never is. But you live with it. Because she’s the only thing that matters now. You understand me?”
I shut my eyes, the weight of the truth pressing into my ribs like a blade. And when I opened them again, I forced the knife from my hand, letting it clatter to the floor.
Draugr didn’t flinch, he never did. He stood solid, like the anchor he always was when my rage threatened to pull me under. “I think she needs you whole. Not lost to this.” His gaze cut sharp. “She doesn’t need Keller’s corpse. She needs you.”
The words struck, sharp, because he was right. He was always fucking right. My chest heaved, my body trembling with the effort of holding myself together.
Draugr stepped closer, a hand gripping my shoulder, solid, grounding. “You did enough. He’s finished. And when he’s gone, it won’t erase what happened. But what you give her now, that will.”
The fury didn’t vanish, but it dulled, just enough for me to breathe. I glanced back at Keller, the pathetic wreck of him slumped in the chair. His eyes wide, his body broken. He’d never touch another woman again. Never breathe another word of filth.
“I will let him heal, and then I will be back again.” I said finally, my voice cold, final. “I will make it slow brother…I will make it count.”
Draugr nodded once. His hand squeezed my shoulder before letting go. It was his way of telling me he understood that he had my back, always.
I turned, the air thick with blood and silence, my chest still heavy but steadier than before. Sorcha was waiting for me at home, and God help anyone who thought they’d ever take her from me.