Ruthless Reign (Midnight Psychos #3)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Nyx

Something is dripping onto my face, but it's the overwhelming stench of blood and dirt that stirs me out of unconsciousness.

Immediately, my head throbs, chasing away that last lingering fog as pain shoots like sharp knives through my skull. My eyes are tightly shut as I find some minor comfort within the dark while I try to gather my senses. I want to reach for my head, to rub it and push away whatever is falling onto my cheek, but my limbs don't work.

I try harder, wiggling my fingers first. They move, much to my relief, but it's short-lived when my arms are still paralyzed as I try to lift them.

What the fuck happened? Where am I?

Suddenly, it comes rushing back to me in icy waves. My body tenses, screaming danger , and the flashbacks do nothing to calm it.

Tyler's funeral. Running. Kissing Maverick. Blurry shadows in the trees.

Hunters…

They found me.

And they were going to kill Maverick.

If that alone didn't bring me back to my cold reality, the sound of Maverick's voice did.

It still echoes in my mind, yelling my name. I remember the sheer panic I had felt hearing it at that moment. Ever since packs had started vanishing, we were no stranger to deadly encounters and rogue wolf visits. I've lost count of the number of times we have been attacked or had enemies sneak into our pack with sinister intentions.

But there was something about his voice and the way he was calling out to me. I knew right then that we were in serious danger—outnumbered and overpowered for the first time.

In the short time I have known Maverick, it's clear that he is a ruthless and cold alpha. That man has less emotion in his entire body than one of the dusty, old, torn books in Mrs. Lyon's library. But his voice… it was laced with pure panic and fear.

He was scared.

Keeping my eyes clenched shut, I try to ignore the pain in my head and body as I listen for sounds. It's eerily quiet. I can only hear my own breathing—little sharp breaths—which I quickly try to silence as to avoid drawing attention.

When I hear nothing further, I count to three, before slowly opening my eyes. Immediately, the light sends a fresh wave of pain through my body as my head throbs even more. My vision is blurry, shapes disorientated, and I have to blink a few times to get them into focus.

Looking around, I realize that I'm in a basement of some kind, on the concrete floor surrounded by white rocks that look oddly familiar. Glancing down, I spot thick metal chains snaking around my body, digging into my frame harshly. My arms are pinned to my sides and ankles bound together, which quickly explains why I can't move.

As the room comes into complete focus, I manage to sit up, alleviating the pressure in my sides as I crawl off the chains. There are wooden stairs diagonally from me, leading up to a closed door with peeling black paint while the rest of the room is a mixture of white and gray.

More droplets fall onto my cheek, and I glance up, spotting a leaking, rusty pipe above me. I quickly shuffle out of the way, avoiding more falling water.

Aside from the rocks, the only other thing in this room appears to be a single chair a few feet away. It's pointed toward me, and I shiver with disgust at the thought of someone sitting there, watching my unconscious body on the floor.

"Shit," I whisper under my breath, terror filling me as I start to grasp the severity of the situation. This is really it—I'm going to be subjected to a life worse than death. By the time they are through with me, I'll wish I was dead.

For months, we knew that packs were kidnapping female wolves, like some sick trafficking survival scheme. Raping and impregnating them in the hope of excessive breeding to increase pack size and strength in case they were in the firing line, about to vanish from existence. We knew I was a target, even before my birthday. Hunters had made that clear, and the danger only escalated when Lex and his pack arrived. But even though I was scared for my safety, never once did I believe that it would actually happen.

My pack is strong, a force to be reckoned with. We did everything right—training, boundary monitoring. Our land was protected to the highest extent, coupled with the extra security and support of other packs.

But it obviously still wasn't enough…

Tears well in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I have to stay calm and focused if I have any chance of surviving this. My mind flashes to Lex, imagining what he must be going through right now. I was only going for a quick run, and I never returned home.

There's a jarring ache in my chest that has nothing to do with my physical pain. I can still feel my mate bond, but instead of the usual calming, euphoric feeling, it's a pain like I've never felt before. It feels like the invisible tether between us is stretched, threatening to break and snap at any second if we don't alleviate the pressure and close the distance.

It's clear I'm on another pack's land, but I have no idea just how far away from home I am. The pain feels like I'm on the other side of the world, but there's no way that's possible. I can't have been out cold for that long.

Maybe it's because there's two ropes…

Fuck. I never thought I'd see the day where I actually missed Maverick—miss just being near him, even though I want to kill him most of the time. We never even formally completed the bond but the need to be with him is still strong—like I'm grieving for his presence.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to mind link Lex, calling out his name in desperation over and over. There's nothing in return—just a noiseless abyss for the first time. Alarmed, I try reaching for Maverick. When that fails too, I shake off my panic and turn my attention to Alpha Daxton. Surely, I should be able to contact my own alpha… the pack connection is our most prevalent nature and ability as wolves.

But there's still nothing. Just my own thoughts…

As that realization hits me, I hastily turn to the one connection that I know is absolute.

" Mira! " I yell internally, holding my breath. " Are you there? Please be there… "

My wolf and I share a soul—a spirit created by the Moon Goddess herself, and nothing would ever be able to break that. Except… she's not there either.

The tears finally slip free when it hits me that I'm completely alone, rolling down my dirt and blood encrusted cheeks. I take another glance around the room, trying to see if I missed anything. When my eyes fall back to the white stones, I examine them more carefully, assessing the out-of-place random objects.

"They're moonstones, so I wouldn't waste your time," a voice says calmly, startling me.

My gaze snaps up the staircase, finding a male figure standing on the landing, watching me. I didn't even hear him sneak in which also panics me. All my senses are blocked.

He's partly hidden in the shadows, but sensing my anxiety and heated stare, he steps down, coming into full view.

The man reaches the bottom, his scruffy black boots slapping against the concrete as he walks toward me. His dark jeans and crisp black shirt do little to hide or distract from the dozens of jagged red scars across his skin. Jade-colored eyes take in my figure on the ground with disinterest as he stops in front of one of the moonstones.

I rip my eyes away from him for a second, looking at the stones as I process his words. They form a perfect circle—with me as the center point.

"Who are you?" I ask suspiciously, glaring back at him.

He looks fairly young—probably in his late twenties—but the scars speak a different story. It's obvious he's been through wars, living in a world of violence. I can't say I'm surprised though. It aligns with the characteristics of what I would associate with a hunter or a pack that would take such drastic measures.

Sometimes it's hard to grasp that there are packs vastly different from ours. Despite Maverick playing the Devil's Advocate, I still fail to see any reasonable explanation why a pack would commit such heinous acts. I know the desperate need to survive is a hard battle, the unwavering need to protect your pack, but to do such evil things doesn't justify it.

It's clear that we learned nothing from the Great War. History will always repeat itself.

His brown hair is unruly, falling into the eyes that gaze back at me as he answers my question. "That's not important right now," he says monotonously. "You'll find out more in time. But for now, we need to get ready to transport you to the cells."

"Don't fucking touch me," I snap back, even though he hasn't moved toward me at all.

"Terrible attitude for a Luna," he remarks coolly, a hint of disgust on his face. "We'll have to work on that."

My jaw clenches painfully as I stare at him angrily. "My packs will come looking for me," I warn. "I hope you've enjoyed living and breathing."

"Packs," he repeats slowly, intrigued. "That's right—you're the one with two mates supposedly. I've heard all about you."

I freeze, processing his words. It wasn't common news that I had more than one mate. The only people who knew were members of the packs' inner circles. Nothing I said should have given that away, because the truth is I do have more than one pack—even if Lex was my only mate. The Shadow Pack and Blood Moon Pack were my ties, but somehow, he knows about Maverick too.

And that's not a good sign.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"I very much doubt that," he replies. "Though, according to our sources, you never completed the mating bond with one of them. That's a shame if you ask me—it would have taken care of both problems."

Problems…

I hate the way my anger takes a backseat, overtaken by primal fear that I can't hide from my face. I can read between the lines perfectly well.

Once I'm claimed by another wolf that's not my mate, it will kill our bond.

But it's not the bond that will just cease to exist—it's potentially my mates too.

We were always told that a rejection is the worst pain imaginable. The agony of having your mate refuse the bond is worse than death. But in the death of a bond, you can be reborn. It's all about balance. You might get a second chance with a new mate. The difference here is that is a choice. One mate can voluntarily end a bond, and through pain, reward exists. But to have your mate ripped away by someone else? There's no balance for that. It's destructive.

Pure evil.

Lex, and maybe even Maverick, will feel the devastation. Knowing they lost me will be agonizing, catastrophic—just like what happened to Maverick's father.

My heart breaks remembering the confession from his pack. His rejection of love and refusal to take a mate, worried that it may destroy him, and consequently his pack. They say you have nothing to lose until you do, and I understand now.

As alphas, everything is intensified. They carry the weight of entire packs on their shoulders, and as nature born leaders, they are the most intact with our universal connections. It's their role to lead, and to also produce future alphas so that packs continue on.

In Maverick's case, he had to prematurely step into his role as alpha after his parents died—it was his duty to carry on for the sake and survival of the Night Pack.

My packs can't do that. We don't have that option.

Even if I had already produced heirs, the idea that Lex and Maverick would die is a painful nightmare I don't want to think about.

"I won't let you harm them," I say, shaking my head. "I'll kill you."

The image of my packs being wiped out is bone-chilling, and I'm overcome with the need to protect them all—even Maverick's pack.

"Huh—Maybe there's a little Luna in you, after all," he replies dryly. "I guess we'll see."

He turns and walks back toward the stairs, the wood groaning under his weight as he ascends. I struggle against the chains, trying to break loose.

"Let me go!" I yell to him, but he's already vanished from sight. The door slams closed behind him as I'm left alone again in the cold basement, my heart racing as I try to mind link everyone once more. I realize it's pointless with the moonstones around me, their presence blocking my ability to reach out, but I keep trying anyway.

I can't help but feel like this is my own fault. We knew the hunters were getting dangerously close. They managed to sneak through our boundaries on more than one occasion—even getting into my bedroom while I slept. I let my guard down, overwhelmed with grief and confusion, believing I would be fine going for a quick run.

It was a deadly mistake—and costly.

In my selfishness, I let down everyone. Not only my Shadow Pack, where my parents and friends are, but Lex and Maverick too—and all the members of the Blood Moon Pack and Night Pack. Their lives are now in jeopardy, caught in the downfall of a crumbling empire.

But I won't give up—I refuse. I might not be Luna yet, but they are still my people. It's my job to protect them—just like their alphas do.

Despite not being able to reach out, I can still feel the pull of my mate bonds. I try not to dwell on the last words I heard before I was knocked unconscious. In my heart, I know Maverick is alive somewhere out there, that they didn't kill him during the attack. He would have raised the alarm to Lex and Alpha Daxton, the three alphas doing what they do best when faced with an enemy.

I have no idea how I'm going to get out of this, but one thing is clear.

The Great War is coming again—but this time, there are three packs out for blood, joining forces that these assholes won't stand a chance against.