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Augustus should have just let them drop me in that pool.
As the doctor starts to cut away my underwear, and I feel the cool metal blade against my skin, the world goes black.
And Augustus is the last word drifting through my mind.
Chapter 20 - Augustus
The second I hit the ground outside, I’m shifting and running at full speed, following the line of Mylah’s scent that trails along the path off my property. My head is a mess—anger and urgency and the aching, throbbing echo of the rut I very nearly tumbled into while looking for her. Somehow, through that mess, I must have managed to call for the guys, because they join me at the border, falling in line and running right alongside me.
I glance over at Brack—his wolf massive, shimmering, gray—and he twitches his nose as if to say where are we going?
Mine twitches back I’m following her scent.
Not just Mylah’s scent—Aurora’s, too, though her scent is weaker. I’m lucky that the earlier weather has calmed, the winds dying down, the blizzarding simply turning to a soft snow. It falls slow enough now that their scents aren’t completely gone.
Someone must have taken them. I can’t imagine that Aurora would be stupid enough to leave without an alpha’s protection. Father has drilled into her a million times that while her status does offer her some protections, there are certainly alphas out there who don’t care who the king is, and who’s related to him.
Such as the alphas on the outskirts.
Together, the four of us run toward a city just on the eastern and Northern borders. It’s not the main city of the Northern territory—not the one where I live—but it’s sizable, with plenty of farms surrounding it. I know it for the trade and markets that take place.
What the hell would my sister and Mylah be doing here? Who would take them out this far?
We run down the streets. Here, it gets a bit harder to follow their scents, as the carriages, horses, and all other manner of smells mix in and layer over them. I sniff along the snow intently, following the trail down one alleyway, then another.
Was someone planning to take them for ransom? Did someone figure out that Mylah is my mate? Or did they plan to take Aurora, and just happen to take Mylah as well?
The scent trail leads to a bright red door in the middle of an alley. Here, my ears perk up.
It smells like my sister. Like Mylah.
Like blood.
I hear the faint sound of screaming inside, crying, and growl, jumping and bursting through the door without a second thought. The guys are behind me, backing me up.
The first room we enter contains a single alpha, half-asleep, his feet propped up on a scuffed old reception desk. He jumps when we break down the door, but when I see Mylah isn’t in the room, I run past, following her scent like a string through the dark.
When I come through the second door, a man is standing, a knife in his hand, a small stool flying to the corner of the room like he got up quick.
And Mylah is there, on the cot.
Strapped down, her head lolled to the side, her legs in the air, a rip in her underwear like that fucker was cutting through them. Tears are still dripping down her cheeks. I can smell the fear lingering here, sharp and weighty.
“Wait, stop, please,” the man says, backing up, his hands up though he still holds the scalpel in one. “I was—she asked for it.”
Right. Maybe this is the kind of man that thinks she’s always asking for it.
Even if the smartest thing to do here isn’t ripping this fucker limb-from-limb, I wouldn’t have the wherewithal to think that far. I see red, my wolf taking full control of me as I launch myself at him. He swipes with the scalpel, letting out a scream of his own. I barely feel the glance of that little thing over my skin, but I do feel the satisfying crunch of my teeth into his cervical vertebra. His neck fits nicely in my mouth, and I snap it with a single bite, my tongue dancing with the taste of his hot blood.
I whip him once for good measure, liking the way his body feels like a rag doll in my mouth.
In fact, I’m thinking about tearing into him a little more when I hear a sound from the cot. Mylah, stirring, fighting against the straps, letting out a muffled scream against whatever they shoved into her mouth.
Dropping the bastard beta, I shift back and turn to her, working over the straps as she rouses. In the main room, I can make out the sounds of the guys growling, fighting, maybe tying up that other alpha out there. There are likely more down the hallway, and I make out the sound of my sister’s voice, a sob breaking out from her chest.
It’s all like background music. Something far away from me.
The thing I’m focusing on right now is Mylah, getting her loosened from this fucking table. Her legs down from these weird holders.