Chapter 15
REV
The club moved swiftly and efficiently, putting quiet protection on Magnus’s new target, a young woman whose only fault was matching his twisted symbolic criteria.
She would never know how close she’d come to being abducted and staged in his sick historical fantasy.
That was exactly how we wanted it—her safe and oblivious and shielded from the darkness lurking just beyond her everyday routine.
But we weren’t just protecting an innocent life; we were also putting calculated pressure on Magnus’s carefully structured reality.
A predator like him thrived on control and order, each step of his plan perfectly timed and executed to fulfill the obsessive vision in his head.
By blocking him again—disrupting his completion twice—my hope was that his meticulously maintained composure would finally fracture.
Magnus was organized, precise, and disciplined.
He planned every detail, accounted for every possibility.
But when pressure compressed timelines, even the most controlled systems started to buckle.
And Magnus would know we were onto him now, that we’d identified his new victim.
He’d have to accelerate his movements to push himself beyond comfort and routine.
It could force him to expose vulnerabilities he might never have otherwise shown.
I knew exactly how this type of man operated.
With his process compromised and his fantasy interrupted, he would be forced into rapid, desperate decisions.
And with the replacement option now gone, Magnus would likely default to another psychological trait of an organized serial killer. Fleeing to avoid capture.
Most of the highly premeditated killers often abandoned the immediate area and their plans altogether if a victim escaped.
The primary drive for survival and escaping law enforcement superseded the urge to kill.
And that would mean accessing emergency funds, relocating his carefully constructed workspace, and quickly moving archival materials into storage until he could establish a new haven.
We weren’t just protecting a victim now—we were actively hunting Magnus. Forcing him out of his comfort zone and stripping away his illusion of control until he made the inevitable mistake that would give us the opening we needed. Before he disappeared and his cycle could restart somewhere new.
Because this wasn’t just about stopping him, it was about ending him.
A couple of days later, I woke to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. To my shock, I’d slept late—something I’d rarely done since I joined the military. But then, I’d never slept as deeply as I had with Delaney in my arms.
When I stepped into the bathroom, the sight in front of me stopped me dead in my tracks.
Delaney stood beneath the steaming spray of the shower, her body slick and glistening, the hot water cascading down every lush curve.
Her strawberry-blond hair was darkened by moisture, streaming over her shoulders, and rivulets of water ran down the slope of her tits and dripped off her nipples.
Steam filled the small space, mingling with the scent of soap and something uniquely her that sent my pulse into overdrive.
There was no fucking way I could resist.
My self-control snapped entirely as I stepped silently into the shower behind her. She startled slightly as my arms encircled her waist, her gasp quickly melting into a low, sweet sound of recognition as I pulled her body flush against me.
“Soren,” she breathed, her voice thick and raspy with sleep and sudden desire.
“Couldn’t help myself,” I growled roughly against her neck, sliding my hands up to cup her full, perfect tits. Her nipples were already hard beneath my touch as I massaged and squeezed the soft globes, rolling each tight peak between my fingers. “You make me fucking lose control, angel.”
Delaney leaned back against me, her body melting completely into mine as the water continued to glide sensuously over us both. My lips moved along the curve of her throat, tasting her skin, licking the droplets of water from her neck, and savoring the tiny shivers rippling through her.
One hand slid lower, slowly teasing down her belly until I reached between her thighs, cupping her center possessively.
“So fucking wet,” I rasped, sliding my fingers through her slick folds. “And it’s got nothing to do with the shower.”
Delaney whimpered, her body arching against my hand as her hips rocked involuntarily.
“That’s it, baby.” I gently bit her earlobe. “Open those thighs wider for me.”
She spread her legs without hesitation, letting my fingers explore her deeper, dragging slow circles around her sensitive clit. The scent of her arousal hit me hard, tightening every muscle in my body and sending a rush of blood straight to my cock.
“Fuck,” I groaned, grinding slowly against her perfect ass, my hardness sliding against her slick skin. “Feel that? You drive me insane with this sexy little body, angel.”
She pressed herself back against me deliberately, pressing her ass firmly into my cock, and the sensation shattered the last fragment of control I had left.
A savage growl tore from my throat as I spun her around, gripping her hips and lifting her effortlessly off her feet to pin her to the cold tile wall.
Delaney gasped, her eyes widening with anticipation. Her hands gripped my shoulders as her thighs locked around my waist. Her breathing quickened, her pupils dilated with raw, fierce desire as I positioned myself against her drenched entrance.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” I held her gaze as I drove into her in one powerful thrust, bottoming out fully inside her wet, gripping heat.
She cried out loudly, her nails biting into my skin as her pussy stretched around me. Every nerve ending in my body ignited instantly, sensation exploding through my veins, and brutal pleasure flooding every inch of me.
There was no slow buildup when I began to move. I was lost to my base instincts, determined to do just what I promised and fuck her so hard she felt me for days.
Delaney clung to me, her hips meeting each deep thrust, matching the hard, wild rhythm I set.
The shower was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, mingled with her desperate moans and my rough groans.
Water poured over us, running down our faces and soaking our bodies, intensifying every heated sensation.
My fingers dug harder into her hips, and I knew damn well there’d be bruises. Fuck, I wanted them there. To see my marks on her body, for her to feel them every time she moved, reminding her exactly who had claimed her.
“Fuck, angel,” I rasped harshly, slamming deeper into her. “I’m inside you so fucking deep. Such a greedy little pussy, always gripping me, sucking me in and refusing to let go.”
Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed deep red as she whimpered helplessly, clinging to me tighter.
“Soren, please. Oh yes—yes! Yes!” she gasped, her voice breaking in pleas as her pleasure grew.
“Come for me, angel,” I commanded roughly. “Soak my cock with your sweet fucking juices.”
Delaney threw her head back, crying out as her climax detonated through her. Her body convulsed wildly against the tile, her pussy gripping me so tight I nearly blacked out.
“Fuck!” I roared, driving into her harder and faster, feeling her muscles ripple around me.
My palm slammed against the wall beside her head, and I thrust again.
Once, twice, and then I erupted inside her with a force so intense it nearly brought me to my knees.
Pleasure surged through me, wrenching a rough, guttural shout from my chest as I poured into her until I felt her shudder again with aftershocks.
My breathing was ragged, my pulse pounding brutally as I slowly lowered her legs, both of us trembling and weak, barely holding each other upright beneath the hot spray of water.
I let out a low, rough chuckle, my lips brushing against her ear. “Fuck, angel…we keep doing that, and we’re gonna have to reinforce these shower walls.”
Delaney laughed softly, her cheek resting against my chest, and her body still quivering against mine. “Worth it.”
“Damn straight,” I murmured, holding her tight, feeling her heart pound as heavily as mine.
The following morning, I gathered with several of my brothers once more in Kane’s office.
The air felt charged as I stepped inside, settling into the chair across from Kane’s heavy desk.
Edge leaned casually against the nearby wall, flipping his knife idly between his fingers.
Jax and Apex were already positioned nearby, waiting quietly but intensely focused.
Kane’s gaze lifted as I settled in, the intensity in his green eyes unmistakable. “Tell me we’ve got something.”
Jax adjusted his glasses slightly, stepping forward first. “Magnus is reacting exactly how we anticipated under pressure. He’s scrambling to relocate and restructure.
We’ve tracked sudden activity tied to his archive credentials and rapid database access.
He’s pulling his records and sensitive materials as fast as he can. ”
Apex nodded, taking over seamlessly. “And he’s liquidating emergency funds. Yesterday, we traced a significant cash movement from a hidden account to the preservation property he used. He’s also rented transport vehicles through one of the shell organizations.”
My pulse quickened. Magnus was doing exactly what we’d expected—trying to escape so he could preserve his twisted legacy and restart elsewhere.
“Good.” Kane leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked firmly on mine. “Any idea where he might be headed?”
I exhaled slowly. “I’m working on it.”
Over the next eighteen hours, I forced my mind back through everything I’d gathered.
I spent hours analyzing Magnus’s behavioral patterns, geography, and ritual needs, blending them with Jax’s and Apex’s intel.
My focus narrowed to a specific area Magnus had previously researched, though never officially used—an abandoned historical site outside Washington, DC.
It offered prime proximity to high-level museums and historical archives, exactly the resources Magnus would crave. And just crowded and busy enough that he could disappear quietly into the background noise.
Once I was as confident as I could be, I went to see Kane.
He was kicked back in a chair in Edge’s office, but they both sat up, alert the second I stalked into the room.
“Washington, DC, area,” I told them “There’s an old historical preservation site—abandoned, not actively monitored. Magnus researched it extensively but never officially accessed it. It’s close enough to major museums and archives, yet anonymous enough to fade into the noise.”
Edge snarled, “Sounds exactly like his kind of twisted paradise.”
Kane nodded and exchanged a glance with Edge, who leaned back in his chair, picking up a knife from his desk and absentmindedly flicking it open and shut.
Kane’s voice hardened with authority. “It’s time. We move now before Magnus has a chance to vanish again.”
The order settled heavily on my chest. This was the moment we’d been working toward, tracking Magnus carefully, pushing him, and forcing his system into panic mode. It was exactly what we needed, but now the urgency and danger had intensified.
As we stood, I could feel the anticipation and fury beneath my skin. Magnus Kinghorn was finally gonna get what he deserved.