There You Are
SCARLETT
“Where were they taking me?”
The question looped in my head like a broken record, relentless and maddening, as the world jolted around me with every stride.
I was clutched against a hard, unyielding chest, my body naked except for the shredded remnants of my skirt hanging off my hips like torn, pathetic flags of surrender.
Blood, mine, theirs, who even knew anymore, smeared my skin in sticky, cooling streaks.
It clung to my thighs, my stomach, the undersides of my breasts.
My arms were pinned awkwardly between our bodies, wrists throbbing from the earlier grips that had left deep purple bruises blooming like ugly flowers.
Every step Kane took carrying me sent fresh, white-hot pain spiking through my cracked ribs where I’d been kicked repeatedly earlier, each impact reminding me how fragile my body really was. How fragile being an Omega was.
Behind us, the screams hadn’t stopped. They never really stopped.
They echoed down every corridor we passed, high and gut wrenching, pleading and raw.
Wet slaps of flesh against flesh. Low, guttural growls that vibrated through the stone walls.
Laughter that sounded more like animals tearing into fresh kill than anything human.
Doors banging open and shut in frantic rhythm.
Someone sobbing “please, no more, please God no more” until the words dissolved into wet, gurgling silence as though their throat had finally given up.
I squeezed my eyes shut so hard that colors burst behind my lids.
I couldn’t unsee it. The images were branded into me now, permanent and searing.
I gagged Kane's shoulder, bile burning the back of my throat.
We burst out of the suffocating building into the open courtyard.
Cool night air hit my bare skin like a physical slap, raising gooseflesh along my arms and legs.
Moonlight poured down, turning everything silver and black and strangely beautiful in a way that made the horror feel even more obscene.
The grass was churned to mud in wide patches, blood-soaked, slick, littered with torn clothes scattered like macabre confetti.
Bodies still writhed in the open air, some still fighting with weakening punches and kicks, most already broken and limp, used until they were little more than discarded dolls.
Then a voice cut through the night, achingly familiar.
“Let her go.”
My head snapped up so fast that fresh pain lanced through my neck.
Kaiden stood maybe twenty feet away, stance wide and rooted, fists clenched at his sides.
Blood streaked his forearms in dark rivulets, his shirt torn open across the chest to reveal deep gashes that wept steadily, dark stains spreading like ink on fabric.
His hair was wild, matted with sweat and blood, and his eyes, those warm hazel eyes I’d once found safety in—burned with something feral.
He looked like he’d already fought his way through hell itself to reach this moment.
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
No.
No no no.
He couldn’t fight them. Not all of them. Not like this.
They would kill him. Slowly. Gleefully.
Kane’s laugh rolled out first—bright, delighted, completely unhinged, the sound of someone who found joy in breaking things.
“Ohhh, look who it is,” he drawled, stepping forward with exaggerated slowness, hips swaying like he was on a catwalk instead of a blood-soaked lawn. “The knight in shining armor. How fucking cute.”
Saint, already shifted back to full wolf form growled low and continuous, hackles raised along his massive black spine, red eyes locked on Kaiden like prey he’d been stalking for weeks.
Rhys stepped forward last. Calm. Collected.
Almost serene. His golden eyes glowed softly in the moonlight, reflecting it like twin coins.
He was dressed again, crisp black shirt tucked neatly into dark pants like the massacre inside had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a brief interruption before returning to civilized business.
He tilted his head, studying Kaiden the way someone might study an interesting but ultimately insignificant insect pinned under glass.
“If you can get past me,” Rhys said quietly, “and take her from us… she’s yours.”
I jerked violently in Kane's arms, my voice cracking. “No! Kaiden, don’t! It’s fine, I’m safe, please just go!”
Kaiden’s eyes flicked to me, only for a second then locked back on Rhys.
His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jump.
“I’ve seen what this place does to Alphas,” he said slowly, voice low and dangerous, every word carved from rage. “What it turns them into. Sick fucks who think consent is optional and screaming is foreplay.”
Kane barked a laugh
“Hmm” he grinned wide enough to show the full length of his fangs. “You calling us sick fucks? That’s adorable. Almost makes me want to keep you conscious longer so you can watch us claim her.”
Kaiden didn’t flinch. Didn’t answer.
He lunged.
Straight at Rhys.
Rhys didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.
Kaiden swung, fast, precise, fist aimed at Rhys’s jaw with every ounce of fury behind it.
Rhys sidestepped. Effortless. Like water parting around a stone.
Kaiden spun immediately, elbow flying toward Rhys’s temple in a brutal follow-through.
Rhys leaned back, just enough. The blow whistled past his ear.
Kaiden growled and charged again.
Rhys caught his wrist mid-swing with casual precision.
Then twisted.
Kaiden grunted in pain but didn’t stop, knee driving upward toward Rhys’s gut with bone-crushing force.
Rhys pivoted at the last second, caught the knee on his hip instead, absorbed the impact, then used Kaiden’s own momentum to swing him around like a rag doll caught.
Then he lifted.
One hand closing around Kaiden’s throat.
Kaiden’s feet left the ground, legs kicking uselessly in the air.
Rhys held him there, casual, almost bored while Kaiden clawed at the iron grip, nails raking bloody furrows that healed almost instantly.
Then Rhys flung him.
Kaiden flew backward through the air, slammed into the building wall with a sickening crunch of brick and bone. Dust and debris exploded outward in a cloud.
He crumpled to the ground in a broken heap, unmoving.
Kane laughed again, clapping slowly, mockingly.
“Bravo, darling,” he called to Rhys. “Very elegant. Almost poetic.”
I stared at Kaiden’s still form, tears burning fresh tracks down my dirt-streaked face.
“Please,” I whispered, voice cracking into pieces. “Please leave him. He was just trying to help. He doesn’t deserve this.”
Kane turned to me, his smile softening into something almost tender, almost loving.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he purred, brushing a bloody thumb across my cheek in a mockery of affection.
“He’s not dead. Though I really wish he was.”
He glanced at Rhys over his shoulder. “But our fearless leader seems to find him amusing, so… why not keep him breathing? For now. Entertainment’s so hard to come by these days.”
Then they all started walking forward.
Suddenly, behind us, there was a growl.
Deep. Furious and Inhuman. The kind of sound that vibrated in your bones and promised violence.
We all turned.
Kaiden was on his feet.
Eyes glowing molten red.
Fangs elongated past his lips.
Claws extended, black and razor-sharp.
Not a wolf.
Not human.
Something else.
Rhys tilted his head, a slow, delighted smile spreading across his face.
“There you are,” he said softly, almost gleefully, like this was what he was waiting for, what he wanted to see.
Kaiden snarled, low and guttural, the sound ripping from somewhere primal.