We often ate meals together, but that morning I’d made them leave early since Reese was still asleep.
My chest tightened at the memory of her saying she would only remain at the commune until Henry healed. I couldn’t let that happen and would have to learn how to convince her to stay with me.
“In the basement,” Chance responded telepathically.
Chance and I entered the town center where my main construction office was held, along with offices for a few other businesses that my pack ran. On the ground level of the building was a large auditorium where we often held get-togethers, parties, and first-shift ceremonies.
However, on the sublevel was a completely different atmosphere. I took a step back from Chance and yanked the steel door. My anger mounted, almost causing me to pull the damn thing off its hinges. We descended into the darkness of the cement basement. The room was mainly empty save for the steel beams throughout that supported the structure of the building.
At the center of the room were four metal stakes, one of which had a man in tattered jeans and no shirt tied to it by a silver chain. I sniffed at the air, delighting at the scent of his burning flesh from the silver squeezing into his neck. His head hung low, his dampened hair hanging around his face like a curtain.
My other betas stood around, having come into town early that morning.
“Raffa, the bucket,” I summoned.
Raffa handed me the bucket filled with salt water. I took delight in tossing the water into the bastard’s face, causing him to scream out in agony.
“Who sent you?” I demanded after throwing the bucket aside and crouching low.
“It burns,” he whimpered.
I smiled at the smoke that rose from the burns around his neck.
“That does look like it hurts.” I ran my eyes over the searing skin and puss and blood that oozed from the wounds caused by the silver.
I grabbed the bottom of his face, raising it to meet mine. I sniffed. “You’re not from around here.” I knew the scents of all of the wolves in my area since they were all my pack. This wasn’t a shifter from Texas, either. There were only a few loners who lived in Texas and no packs to speak of.
This asshole came from somewhere else.
“Who the fuck are you, and why were you after my mate?” I demanded, tightening my hold on him.
He growled and bared his teeth. “Let me go.”
I shook his head violently. He bared his incisors, and his eyes glowed. I laughed in his face.
“You can’t shift,” I reminded him. “Not with that silver around your neck. Who sent you?”
“Nobody.”
He yelled and screamed when I punched him in the face hard enough to send three of his teeth flying across the room.
“Let me explain something to you.” I held out my hand, and my brother placed the handle of my silver knife in my palm. I brought the weapon up to my face. The bastard’s eyes widened in fear, and he tried to scoot away but couldn’t due to the metal stake at his back.
“My father taught me at least a few hundred different ways to torture a motherfucker before sending him to his grave. If you think that silver around your neck burns now, I promise, it’s nothing compared to what my wolf wants to do to you.” For emphasis, my wolf reared up and growled, the sound echoing off of the walls surrounding us. My incisors sharpened as I bared my teeth.
Despite the ire coursing through me, I settled my wolf.
“You can talk, or we can all listen to a symphony of your screams as I slice you open piece by piece.”
His mouth opened and closed as he peered around at the four other men behind me, who also growled. A threat to their alpha queen was a threat to them all.
“Look at me.” I smack him, regaining his attention. “They aren’t your biggest threat in the room.” I stuck the tip of the knife into his flesh, searing it.
He grimaced and grunted in renewed pain.
“Who the fuck sent you?”
“I-I don’t know his name.” He yelled louder when I stuck the knife in farther.
