Chapter 4
KYLIAN
My mate is…gone.
Kidnapped.
And who the fuck knows what else.
Adrenaline and fear pump into my veins with every erratic surge of my heart.
Has she been hurt?
Killed?
No. I refuse to even consider that, as if somehow thinking it will make it reality.
She’s fine.
She has to be fine.
And if she’s not fine…
Images of castrated penises, severed limbs, and disemboweled bodies play on a loop in my head, and I can’t stop the bloodthirsty smile from curling up my lips.
Everyone will die.
The last hour has been the most stressful of my life—and I once defused a bomb while held at gunpoint, listening to the sound of my comrades screaming in agony.
The second Ridge told us what happened to our mate, we sprang into action.
The king and queen were shepherded away, and Colter cornered Brock and his alphas and instructed them to go to an address in the middle of town.
Apparently Teddie’s there. I have no idea how he returned home so quickly, or why, but that’s a problem for Future Kylian.
Present Kylian doesn’t give a damn about anyone except his missing mate.
It’s fucking killing me that I can’t immediately jump into action. My hand practically twitches with the need to stab, slice, and maim. The second I get my hand on one of those Noth fuckers—
I force myself to take a deep breath, to replenish my lungs that seem to be rapidly shrinking with each consecutive second.
I can’t lose my head.
Not yet.
Not when we still have no idea where our mate is.
Luka—with the help of a few other alphas, all with degrees in computer sciences—is trying to track the van she was thrown into, but unfortunately, that’s proving to be a dead end.
We have a vague, grainy image of a nondescript vehicle leaving Darling Academy and passing the guardhouse, where two alphas were found murdered.
Then they pulled onto a side street and then wham-bam, thank you, ma’am—gone.
They must have a hacker or two on their payroll as well, their sole responsibility to shut off cameras.
I hate this.
I fucking hate this.
I hate—
“Stop pacing,” Ridge growls from where he stands beside me in the tiny room.
I think it once was a classroom, perhaps an art studio, but it has quickly been converted into a central hub to find Brylee.
Luka, along with two professors, sits behind computers, typing away, their brows furrowed in concentration.
Another alpha pack is poring over a map, and two more unfamiliar men are conversing in the corner, where a bunch of easels are set up, each one holding an oil painting depicting a boring-ass fruit basket.
Through it all, Madam Ellora flits from person to person, checking on us and asking if we need anything.
The first time she asked me that, I growled so loudly that she squeaked and stumbled backwards, almost tripping over her high heels.
She hasn’t come near me since.
“I hate this,” I tell Ridge.
I feel so completely and utterly helpless.
It’s a new feeling for me. The second we have a location, a target, something, I can do what I do best. The three Ms. Murder, maim, and mutilate.
But for now, I’m stuck twiddling my damn thumbs, my mind churning over worst-case scenarios that play on repeat in my head.
Brylee with a bullet between her eyes.
Brylee, naked, forced to do who knows what by Noth soldiers.
Brylee crying, shaking, begging for us to come save her.
Brylee—
“Stop. Pacing.” This growl comes from Colter, who grabs the back of my shirt, pulling me to an abrupt halt.
I grit my teeth to keep from saying anything I’ll regret. Or biting him. I have been known to bite on occasion.
“We’ll get her back,” Ridge tells me, making sure to gentle his voice.
It’s something we were taught in our third year at the academy when we took a class on victims and hostages. We want to make sure civilians are put at ease, and we can’t do that if we’re constantly growling and snapping, exuding alpha pheromones.
I can’t believe the fucker is trying to use those tactics on me.
First way to put an innocent at ease—assure them everything will be okay.
Second way—gentle your voice and offer a serene smile.
Third way—
“We have a plan in place. We’ll find her,” Ridge continues.
—tell them you have a plan.
I curl my hands into fists, a split second away from decking him. If we didn’t need every man available, I might’ve. As it is, we can’t afford to have anyone out of commission, even for a second.
The door to the room creaks, the noise ominously loud, and Ridge, Colter, and I all whirl toward the intruder. I already have my knife in my hand, my arm lifted, prepared to throw it.
Where did you come from, my little sparkly boo? I mentally ask the knife.
I suppose it’s second nature for me to grab it when I’m anxious or stressed. I hadn’t even realized I reached for it, but now I caress the blade like it’s an old friend. A stuffed animal you cuddle with late at night, when fear eats away at you and the darkness seems a little too potent.
Sam makes a strangled sound as his gaze volleys from face to face. The beta looks like absolute shit, if I’m being honest, like the stress of the last hour has taken its toll on him. His skin is paler than usual, and dark shadows underscore his eyes.
I know he’s close with Teddie, but I don’t think he’s ever met Brylee before. Unless I’m wrong. It’s possible. I’m wrong, like, twenty percent of the time.
Currently, however, there’s a perpetual fog clouding my thoughts, making it hard to focus or concentrate. The only thing I can see through this gray haze is Brylee’s face.
“What the fuck are you doing here, recruit?” Ridge barks, coming back to his senses faster than I do.
Sam swallows. “I-I want to help,” he stutters out, his gaze flicking to Colter momentarily before lowering to his feet.
He’s truly a pathetic excuse for an Eros Academy recruit. If his parents weren’t rich, the school never would’ve allowed him in. There’s a reason only alphas are allowed to attend.
Betas just can’t make the cut.
“Why the hell should we—” Ridge begins, his jaw thrumming, but Colter holds his hand up in the air, stopping Ridge in mid-tirade.
The giant of a man tilts his head to the side, as if studying the beta, before he nods once.
“Friends,” Colter grunts out in lieu of an actual explanation.
I furrow my brows. “You’re friends with Sam, or Brylee’s friends with Sam?”
Colter gives me an incredulous look, as if the mere thought of him befriending a beta is ridiculous.
He simply says, “Brylee.”
Brylee’s friends with this runt?
Why didn’t I know that?
I make a point of knowing every person my little obsession associates with, from her roommate to the damn pack her parents insist she mate with.
What type of stalker am I?
A corrosive mixture of shame and self-deprecation rushes through me, and I have to bite down on my slightly hysterical laugh.
I’m seriously getting depressed because I didn’t stalk Brylee hard enough.
Maybe I am psychotic.
Just a little.
“Dammit!” Luka exclaims suddenly, the expletive followed by the pounding of a fist against the table.
Ridge turns toward our packmate. “Did you find something?”
“I found jack shit,” Luka says, his lips compressing into a perfectly straight line.
He stares blankly at the computer screen, as if he half expects it to magically provide him with the answers we need.
“Maybe there was a clue left behind when she was taken,” Sam suggests, anxiously twirling his fingers together. “Do we know where that was?”
Ridge seems to consider it. “I already scoped out the area, but it’s possible we missed something. I suppose it’s our best lead—”
“We captured a Noth soldier!” Professor Jameson bursts into the room, sweaty and out of breath. “We found him in Madam Ellora’s office, trying to steal files on the omegas, particularly the high-profile ones. Our men were able to subdue him and bring him to the Eros dungeons next door.”
A Noth prisoner?
Excitement blasts a hole through my haze like the sun burning away fog.
My grin widens, turning genuine for the first time since this whole disaster began. I begin to twirl my blade, already envisioning stabbing it into some poor fucker’s thigh as he screams for mercy.
“Let me do the interrogating,” I tell Jameson, feeling something dark and sensual wake up inside of me, the emotion tinged with malevolence.
Jameson turns toward me, and for the first time since I met him, I think I see a sliver of fear in his eyes at whatever he sees on my face.
Good.
I’ve been pretending for far too long to be something I’m not—the jokester, the class clown, the lighthearted doofus. But now the mask has been removed, the need for blood practically a physical craving that makes my heart pound even faster.
“I…” Jameson opens and closes his mouth a few times but can’t conjure a rebuttal.
After a moment, he nods.
Perfect.
These fuckers unleashed the monster inside of me the second they stole my girl.
Now it’s time for that monster to be fed.