I scrub a hand over my mouth, exhaling slowly. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Years of quiet fractures, planted like landmines. And this is probably just one of them.
It’ll be a while before we find the ones buried deeper over the last decade. My heart sinks at the thought of doing all this without Wolf. Fuck.
Ryder doesn’t say another word. He just turns and storms out, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the basement walls.
Healer stands there for a beat longer, jaw tight, eyes dark. Then he looks back at Scar. But gives nothing away.
I roll my shoulders, cracking my neck. “Alright,” I mutter. “Back to business.”
Time drags after that.
Questions. Silence. More questions.
They give us scraps. Nothing useful. Nothing that matters.
But that was never the point. Information wasn’t on the agenda—pain was. A slow, excruciating dismantling.
It starts slowly.
A twitch.
Then another.
Scar’s leg jerks violently against the concrete.
Hellfire sucks in a sharp breath—his first real sound in minutes.
Then they start to feel it. The paralytic wearing off.
I smile. “Ahh,” I crouch again. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Their breathing turns frantic. Uneven. I know that they can feel it. The exposed muscle. The raw nerves are waking up.
I say softly, almost kindly, “the best part.”
Their teeth start grinding. Bodies shaking.
I can see their pain slowly building. Spreading like fire through their veins. Consuming them to the point of insanity.
Their legs start trembling uncontrollably now. Muscles spasming as sensation floods back in—too fast, too much.
Scar’s head drops forward as a guttural sound rips out of him.
Hellfire follows a second later.
Low at first—then louder.
Then the snap of their control is almost a glorious thing. The screams are like a melody I’ve been waiting for.
I exhale slowly, savoring it.
Rising to my feet, I nod toward Hound.
He simply smirks and grabs the tool I’m looking for, following my lead.
Clang.
