Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darius
Ethan’s words are still ringing in my ears.
“They’re going to execute her, Darius.”
I push through the woods, my lungs burning with each breath. Trees blur past me as I run in human form, still faster than most wolves can sprint. My wolf howls inside me, clawing at my control, tearing at my restraint.
But I must have clothes when I face my father. Must stand before him as the heir, not as a naked animal.
The irony of that thought would be funny if fury weren’t raging through me.
Beside me, Calloway, Voss, and Strand keep pace, their expressions grim.
Their investigators follow behind us. Because it doesn’t matter what I know; I’m still only the heir to the alpha position.
My father has the ultimate say, and if he decides to kill my mate despite the web of lies I’ve uncovered, I’m powerless alone.
I require allies who are on equal footing with him.
Other alphas who can challenge his authority.
I should have come back immediately. Should have trusted that the truth would come out eventually. But I knew better. I’ve lived in this pack my entire life, watching Father manipulate pack law to suit his purposes. Without hard evidence, without allies, I would have been powerless to save her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I snatch it without slowing down.
“Where are you?” Ethan’s voice comes through the speakerphone, tight with panic.
“Thirty minutes out from the detention center. What’s happening?”
“She’s not at the detention center.”
I stumble, nearly losing my footing. “What?”
“She was never there. Anne and Sienna have been trying to get hold of you. They just called me.” His breathing is ragged, as if he’s running, too.
“Violet and Lillian were both being held at the arena. In the underground dungeons. Ryker came and helped Lillian escape. And there’s just been a pack-wide announcement that Violet’s execution will take place in an hour. How far from there are you?”
The arena is in a different direction. My mind calculates distances, routes, the fastest way through the woods.
Cold dread pools in my gut. “An hour and a half.”
“Same for me. Hurry.” Ethan’s voice is urgent, tight with worry.
I end the call and push myself harder, my muscles screaming in protest. My strides eat up ground quickly, but it’s not enough.
Not nearly enough, even though I know this forest like I know my own heartbeat.
Every tree, every path, every shortcut is burned into my memory from years of running these trails.
But knowledge doesn’t make me faster. Doesn’t close the gap between where I am and where she is.
An hour. She has an hour, and I need ninety minutes.
The math is simple and devastating.
My wolf tears at me from the inside, desperate to take over. He could run faster on four legs, cover more ground. But he’d also leave me naked and vulnerable when I reach the arena. And I need every advantage I can get when I face my father.
When I face the pack that is coming to watch my mate die.
The thought sends fresh rage coursing through me. I channel it into speed, pushing my body past its known limits. My heartbeat thunders in my ears. Sweat soaks through my shirt. The three alphas are struggling to keep up now, their breathing labored.
I don’t slow down. Can’t slow down.
“Darius.” Alpha Calloway’s voice cuts through my focus. “We’re with you. Whatever happens in that arena, you have our support.”
I don’t acknowledge him. Can’t. If I do anything but run for even a second, I’ll lose what little control I have left.
Violet. Survive.
The words pound through my mind with every footfall, a prayer and a command rolled into one. I know she can’t hear me. The mate bond is still one-sided, still unacknowledged. But I need her to live. Need her to hold on just a little longer.
There is no me without her.
The trees finally thin out, and I burst into the clearing where the arena sits. The massive stone structure rises before me, ancient and imposing. A dull roar emanates from within it, hundreds of voices creating a sound that makes my wolf bare his teeth.
All these pack members have gathered for entertainment. For spectacle. They came to watch her die.
My hands curl into fists as I sprint across the empty field. The entrance looms ahead, gates standing open like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole.
Suddenly, I hear Zion’s voice, amplified and carrying on the wind. His words drive into me like blades.
“For the crime of betraying the Alpha, for the crime of attempting to harm this pack and harboring dangerous secrets, Violet Moonvale is condemned to be quartered.”
Quartered.
The word explodes in my head. They’re going to tear her limbs off. While everyone watches. While they cheer.
My vision goes red, and my control shatters. The final thread that has been holding me together for the past hour, the past day, the past six years breaks at this realization.
I don’t think. Don’t plan. Don’t strategize.
I just move.
I don’t remember crossing the remaining distance. One moment, I’m well outside the arena, and the next, I’m bursting through the entrance onto the floor.
The scene before me sears itself into my mind.
Violet, on her knees in the center of the arena. Chains binding her wrists and ankles. Four men in execution gear approach her from different directions, coordinated and practiced.
My voice explodes from my throat, a furious roar that echoes off the stone walls.
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY MATE!”
Everything stops. A hush falls across the arena, silence so complete that I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Alaric goes rigid in his seat of honor. Zion is beside him, frozen mid-motion, his face draining of color. Alaric slowly rises from his chair, staring at me, stunned.
“What did you say?”
The four executioners stand there, not moving, their eyes wide as they glance between me and Alaric.
I look at each of them in turn, letting them see the gold bleeding into my eyes, the alpha power radiating from every pore.
“Did you not fucking hear me?”
I surge forward and grab the nearest executioner by his shirt. He’s huge, easily over two hundred pounds of sheer muscle, but I lift him off the ground like he weighs nothing. With a single motion, I hurl him across the arena.
He flies through the air and hits the far wall with a sickening crunch, sliding down to the ground in a dazed heap.
The other three back off immediately, their hands raised in surrender, stumbling over themselves to get away from Violet. They melt into the crowd, their allegiance already changing.
The metallic tang of Violet’s blood fills my nostrils, sharp and wrong. It makes my wolf snarl with rage and scream for violence. And when I actually look at her, chained like an animal in the center of this stone pit, all bruised and bloodied and broken, white-hot fury ignites in my chest.
Dried, dark blood crusts her face. Bruises mottle her skin in shades of purple and black, covering her arms, her neck, and disappearing under the torn fabric of her shirt.
Her clothes are filthy, shredded. Her hair hangs in matted clumps, sticky with dried blood.
The fucking chains have burned angry red welts into her wrists and ankles, which means there is a spell on them that is designed to cause maximum pain.
The skin near her shackles is raw, blistered, and weeping.
They tortured her. Beat her. Chained her with spelled metal.
A roar builds in my ears. I want to tear this arena apart stone by stone. Want to make everyone who hurt her suffer.
But first, I have to get her out of those chains.
I take a step toward her, and she flinches. The movement is tiny, instinctive, but it stops me cold. My chest tightens. Then, my jaw hardens.
I move forward slowly, deliberately, pretending I don’t see the way she shrinks back.
I reach out and grab the restraints at her wrists.
The spelled chains sear my palms, but I don’t care.
I wrench the links apart with brute strength, pouring all my alpha power into the motion.
The metal screams as it breaks, resounding through the silent arena.
The chains fall away. I move behind her and reach for the ones binding her ankles, breaking those just as easily. The pieces clatter to the stone floor.
I kneel in front of her and take her hands in mine, carefully and respectfully. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
Shock floods her hazel eyes, her mouth parting slightly like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Then, tears brim and spill over, tracking down her bruised cheeks.
I rise slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants. When she doesn’t move, I gently pull her to her feet. Once she’s standing, I cup her face, mindful of the bruises. I try to smile at her even though rage still burns through me.
“Don’t tell me you thought I wouldn’t come for my mate.” My voice is quiet now. “Am I really that unreliable in your eyes?”
I use my thumbs to softly wipe away the tears that keep falling.
She covers my hands with her bruised ones, her fingers trembling as they press against my skin. She makes a whimpering sound, like she’s too overwhelmed to speak, like words have completely failed her.
I lean closer, keeping my voice low, intimate, meant only for her.
“I don’t care if you’re a hybrid or a witch or a shifter. You’re mine, Violet. I will always come for you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut as Alaric’s voice booms across the arena. He has finally gathered his wits after the shock of my arrival.
“What are you doing?!”
My hands stay on Violet’s face, my thumbs still stroking away her tears. I whisper to her, “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m here now. Trust me?”
She hesitates and then opens her eyes, nodding.
Her fire may have dimmed over these past few days, but it’s not gone.