Page 87 of Lycan’s Hunt

“Where were you dropping your shipment?” I ask him. He laughs then chokes on his blood and I crouch down, glaring at the man before punching my claws into his chest. He gasps, eyes going wide as my claws slice through his ribs and sternum like a hot knife on butter until I find his heart. His breath starts slowing as my fingers graze it and one wrong move and he dies. He gapes down at my hand in chest.

“Answer and I may let you live,” I tell him.

He sways slightly and leans heavily against the truck tire. “The Army barracks.” he coughs out.

“What Army barracks?”

“Alaric’s, it’s not far from here.”

“What were you delivering there?”

He wheezes, one hand moving to grip my wrist. “The men, I just stopped here to grab a few women to entertain the men,” he manages to spit out.

“You were delivering men?”

He nods slowly, his eyes fluttering slightly as he struggles to breathe with my hand in his chest cavity. “Yes, Alaric is building an army; I deliver the men. He changes them.”

“And the women?”

“Use your imagination. If they aren’t toys, they’re food.” He coughs but I’ve heard enough now and if he can deliver these people to their slaughter, he doesn’t deserve to live.

Damian climbs into his truck and steps out with the GPS. “I’ve got the location here, this is in the industrial area north of the docks.” Knowing we have the location, my fingers squeeze around his heart and his eyes bulge from his head as he clutches my hand, shaking his head. But he will not find any mercy from me. With a sickening noise, I rip his heart from his chest.

• Aubrey •

I can’t sit still; I’ve been on edge all day and night, so much so I nearly lost control at breakfast, so I’ve hidden in the bedroom all day, not wanting to scare Max. The tension in the castle is suffocating, and the bond with Soren only makes it worse. I can feel his emotions—determination, exhaustion, a hint of satisfaction—but there’s also something else. Something heavier.

When the door finally opens and he steps inside, I rush toward him, relief washing over me like a tidal wave.

“You’re back,” I breathe, reaching for his hand. He looks tired, but unharmed, and that’s all that matters right now.

“I’m back,” he confirms, pulling me into his arms. For a moment, we just stand there, holding each other, letting the bond soothe the frayed edges of our nerves.

But it doesn’t last long. I can feel the tension radiating from him, and I know there’s something he is nervous to tell me.

“Soren?”

“We captured Rhett and Clyde,” he begins, and I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end but when he doesn’t explain further I pull back. “Soren, what’s going on? Did something happen?”