Chapter 37 #2
Rhett grunts, struggling beneath my weight.
He lashes out with a wild swing, but I dodge it effortlessly, retaliating with a relentless onslaught of blows, each strike causing his head to bounce off the hard ground.
My knuckles connect with his ribs, the next blow with my claws, the sharpness of them sliding against bone and tissue.
His shriek of agony turns to gasping when I feel his lung collapse, and I quickly remove them not wanting to kill him yet.
Rolling him onto his back, I lock my fingers around his throat -- not to choke, but to keep him still. His eyes are wide and frightened, a wild animal caught in a trap. He flails, trying to pry my fingers off, but my grip is iron.
A sudden volley of gunfire rings out from behind me. I hardly flinch, knowing my men have it under control. My gaze doesn’t waver from Rhett’s face as he squirms beneath me.
Rhett gasps for breath, blood bubbling up and spilling over his lips.
His eyes are glassy with pain and terror, and he lets out a pitiful wheeze instead of a response.
But it’s enough. I can see recognition in his gaze -- the understanding of his predicament and the realization he’s been beaten.
With agonizing slowness, Rhett raises his hands in a symbolic act of surrender.
His breath comes out in erratic gasps as he fights the swelling tide of darkness threatening to swallow him whole.
Behind me, I hear Damian fighting off the last of the guards. Clyde snarls something about betrayal, but it’s drowned out by the sound of my men securing the area. Within minutes, it’s over. The trucks are seized, the guards either dead or subdued, and Clyde and Rhett are bound in silver chains.
I send a quick mindlink to the castle. “We’ve got them. Prepare the dungeons.”
“Understood, My King.”
I glance down at Rhett, who’s still glaring up at me with hatred in his eyes. He looks like a shadow of the man he once was—weak, bitter, and broken. The severed bond with Aubrey has taken its toll, draining him of whatever strength he had left.
“You’ve lost,” I tell him coldly. “It’s over.” Damian walks up beside me, wiping blood from his hands. “That was almost too easy.”
“Don’t get comfortable,” I warn him. “This is just the beginning.” I turn to see the backs of the trucks open.
Men, women, and children all but fall over themselves trying to escape the back of trucks.
My men fan out trying to block them as they panic and make a run for it, thinking we are their new captors.
“If you’re hoping for Alaric’s attention, Soren, you sure will have it now,” Clyde taunts and Damian snarls, taking a few steps where Clyde is restrained and kicking him straight in the face, knocking him out cold.
Staring out at the hundreds of faces jammed in the back of these trucks like sardines in a can, I am horrified. This is bigger than we thought; we knew it was bad, the majority of these people are children and women. Only one of the trucks holds men.
“We’re gonna need some buses, we aren’t putting them back in those trucks,” I tell Damian and I see Keiren glance at us. In his arms a little boy no older than two, thumb in his mouth.
“You wanna organize it fast, we spoke to one of the driver’s. That first truck has another pick up in thirty minutes; he doesn’t arrive in time, they’ll send someone looking he said.”
Kieren points to the driver and I wander over to him. Stopping near him, he is drenched in blood and riddled with bullets healing slowly so I know he is a Vampire by the simple fact he is still alive.
“Where were you dropping your shipment?” I ask him.
He laughs then chokes on his blood and I crouch down, glaring at the man before punching my claws into his chest. He gasps, eyes going wide as my claws slice through his ribs and sternum like a hot knife on butter until I find his heart.
His breath starts slowing as my fingers graze it and one wrong move and he dies. He gapes down at my hand in chest.
“Answer and I may let you live,” I tell him.
He sways slightly and leans heavily against the truck tire. “The Army barracks.” he coughs out.
“What Army barracks?”
“Alaric’s, it’s not far from here.”
“What were you delivering there?”
He wheezes, one hand moving to grip my wrist. “The men, I just stopped here to grab a few women to entertain the men,” he manages to spit out.
“You were delivering men?”
He nods slowly, his eyes fluttering slightly as he struggles to breathe with my hand in his chest cavity. “Yes, Alaric is building an army; I deliver the men. He changes them.”
“And the women?”
“Use your imagination. If they aren’t toys, they’re food.” He coughs but I’ve heard enough now and if he can deliver these people to their slaughter, he doesn’t deserve to live.
Damian climbs into his truck and steps out with the GPS.
“I’ve got the location here, this is in the industrial area north of the docks.
” Knowing we have the location, my fingers squeeze around his heart and his eyes bulge from his head as he clutches my hand, shaking his head.
But he will not find any mercy from me. With a sickening noise, I rip his heart from his chest.
· Aubrey ·
I can’t sit still; I’ve been on edge all day and night, so much so I nearly lost control at breakfast, so I’ve hidden in the bedroom all day, not wanting to scare Max.
The tension in the castle is suffocating, and the bond with Soren only makes it worse.
I can feel his emotions—determination, exhaustion, a hint of satisfaction—but there’s also something else. Something heavier.
When the door finally opens and he steps inside, I rush toward him, relief washing over me like a tidal wave.
“You’re back,” I breathe, reaching for his hand. He looks tired, but unharmed, and that’s all that matters right now.
“I’m back,” he confirms, pulling me into his arms. For a moment, we just stand there, holding each other, letting the bond soothe the frayed edges of our nerves.
But it doesn’t last long. I can feel the tension radiating from him, and I know there’s something he is nervous to tell me.
“Soren?”
“We captured Rhett and Clyde,” he begins, and I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end but when he doesn’t explain further I pull back. “Soren, what’s going on? Did something happen?”