Chapter 82

***Content Warning:***  
*The next two chapters contain scenes and mentions of violence and gore. Please proceed with caution or skip them if you feel this may be triggering. Prioritize yourself, little wolves, your well-being is what matters most!*

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*A Few Minutes Before*
***Alpha Ethan***

‘Jacob is in charge of patrolling the pack’s border, Alpha,’ Christine mindlinks me before even getting out of her car.
I look down at the rogue’s cousin who is right now down there in the dungeons. He is kneeling on the ground in front of me. When Vi got here, he was unconscious, but when I took him out of the trunk of her car, he woke up.
My sister was eager to question him right away, but I commanded her to go straight to the packhouse to take a shower and eat something first. A quick look at my sister, and I could tell right away that she wasn’t well. She’s neglecting her health. She is thinner than before and has dark circles under her eyes. For a Werewolf who heals quickly to be this beat up, something serious must be going on. Physically and emotionally.
Vi didn’t want to go, but she was forced to obey my Alpha command. I don’t usually use it on her, but in this case, I was forced to. She also left because I didn’t need her around at the moment. While she was driving into Blackmoon, she told me all about this motherfucker. 
His name is Mason. She told me that this scumbag was on the run-on for forcing himself on his ex-girlfriend. And the worst part was how Vi found him. She said he was at a hotel with his goddaughter, and he was about to take a shower with the little girl. Vi said the kid was kicking and screaming, begging to take a shower alone while he was dragging her. Due to the terrified state of the little girl, Vi said she thinks this piece of shit has been abusing her too. After she restrained him, our contact in Summerville took care of his goddaughter, and later they returned her to her parents. 
I’m barely holding back my growl.
‘Alpha,’ Christine calls me, sucking in a breath. Her hair is tied back in a bun, letting me easily see the expressions on her face. Not that I need to, because her aura already shows me enough. Anger. Fear. Hatred.
‘What happened, Christine?’ I ask. Mason’s head is still down. Vi had covered his mouth with duct tape.
‘This fucking rogue... It was him!’ she answers. Christine takes a step towards me, looking down at Mason.
‘Do you know him?’ I arch an eyebrow.
‘Yes, Alpha. This son of a bitch abused me when I visited the nearby town of Summerville.’
‘What? When?’
‘When I was a teenager. I remember this fucker’s face well.’ She looks at him angrily before shifting her gaze to me. ‘He...’ the words seem to escape even in her mind. ‘He attacked me... and when I woke up, I was alone and naked near the side of the road.’
It’s fucking hard to control Kral to not shift and kill him. ‘Who knows about this?’
‘No one, Alpha. I haven’t even told my fated mate.’ Christine narrows her eyes at him. Shame. Fear. Her aura screams for help. When she looks up at me again, she shakes her head slightly and says through mindlink, ‘I don’t know if...’
‘Do you want to kill him, Christine?’ I ask darkly. 
‘No, Alpha,’ she replies with fear in her gray eyes, even though I can see her body shaking with rage. ‘I don’t want to get close to him. I want him to die, but I don’t want to do it.’ She clenches her hands into fists. ‘I don’t know if I can help you with this mission, Alpha. I’m sorry.’
Christine’s aura gets opaque with sheer fear and hatred. There is much more to her past. She didn’t tell me the whole story. However, since she is a member of my pack, I can feel everything she is feeling as though it’s my own. And immediately, unable to control my body anymore, I bend down and twist the rogue’s neck.
The sound of his neck being broken is satisfying only momentarily. I can’t see anything but hatred and anger. Long gone is my peace.
‘Thank you, Alpha. Thank you so much.’ Christine places her hand over her mouth and begins to cry. 
‘How are you feeling?’
‘What I’m about to say may be horrible, but better.’ Tears fall from her eyes. ‘I still can’t believe that this monster is finally dead.’
I look down with anger and disgust at the lifeless piece of shit on the ground. ‘Christine, go home.’
‘No, Alpha, I’ll help you,’ she replies, wiping away her tears. Her body is still shaking.
I look up at her. ‘Go home, Christine. That’s an order. You did good. You were right to tell me. I got it from here.’ 
She rubs her arm as if trying to keep her body still before mindlinking me back, ‘Thanks, Alpha. If you need anything, please let me know.’
Christine gets in her car and drives fast away. She lives near the pack entrance with her fated mate and their two little girls.
I hoist the fucker onto my shoulders and carry him to the packhouse. After getting in, I make my way to the dungeons. I throw him down in the first room after the entrance hallway. 
Dad is already here in the dungeons. He’s preparing a room that, well, now won’t be needed anymore.
A few seconds later, my sister comes in wearing different clothes and with her hair damp. “What the fuck, Ethan?” Vi yells. 
*Ethan*, huh? She means business.
I don’t even turn to look at her. I sit on the black leather couch against the wall.
“Why did you kill him?” she asks. “Did he tell you where the witch is?”
“No,” I say, placing my elbows on my thighs.
“What?” she yells. “And you killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan! What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how hard it was to find this fucker?” She kicks the rogue’s body on the floor. “Do you have any idea what I had to do to find him?”
“He wasn’t worth it, Vi.”
“Fuck! You shouldn’t have done that, Ethan! You should have questioned him first! Mom told me you’ve been angry the last few days. I thought she was overreacting, but now I realize she wasn’t.”
I narrow my eyes at her but don’t say anything.
“It’s Allie, isn’t it?” my sister asks. “Fuck! Ethan. You shouldn’t be acting like this. You should be interrogating that piece of shit until something useful comes out of his filthy mouth.”
“Alicent has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, please. You’re all upset now because you argue with her again.” She takes a deep breath. “Get your head out of your ass, Ethan! Fuck. What did you do this time?”
‘I don’t even know if we’re together anymore,’ I mindlink. ‘I fucked up.’
Vi sits down next to me, sighing. ‘Fucking hell, Ian. I told you to be careful. Allie is different.’ She looks at the rogue on the floor in front of us. ‘Why did you kill him?’
“Because of Christine,” I reveal.
Her eyes shift abruptly to me. “What?”
“Yes. It wasn’t just his ex-girlfriend he hurt.”
Silence. 
“I’d ask you if this is some sick joke, except I know you value breaking this curse too much to do that,” she says. 
“I value my pack members too much to joke about this, Vi,” I snap, insulted by the idea I’d make this shit up. 
I hear my sister take a deep breath just before Dad closes the prisoner’s room behind him.
“The fucker still said nothing!” he snarls indignantly, drying his hand with a washcloth. Yet his suit is impeccable.
“He’s going to sing like a canary today.” I stand up abruptly.
“Ian, no!” my sister says, grabbing my hand to stop me. “You’re angry. What if you end up killing him, too?”
“Vi, let me go. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ian, we’ve never been this close to finding the witch as we are now. We’ve never met anyone who knows where she is. Don’t go in there, please. You’re too angry!”
“Your sister’s right, son,” Dad says in a firm voice.
I shake my arm, making my sister’s hand release me. 
“Fuck, Ian!” Vi bites. “Don’t do anything stupid!”
I walk into the room, not bothering to close the door behind me. My sister and father follow behind me in hushed steps right away. They know they can’t stop me. Not like I am right now. They know better than to try it.
The room is dimly lit, the single bulb overhead swinging slightly with a faint, rhythmic creak. The air reeks of coppery blood, stale sweat, and the acrid tang of urine, thick enough to make my nostrils burn. It’s not just because of the room. It’s also the smell of the rogue in front of me. My instincts beg me to snap and kill him as quickly as I killed Mason. The pull is so fucking strong that by not giving in to temptation, my stomach churns.
Chains rattle faintly as I step forward, my boots grinding against the sticky floor where Goddess-knows-what has pooled. The walls are bare cement, except for the dark streaks and splatters that tell the story of past encounters. Past prisoners. Some of them are fresh, others long since dried.
The rogue hangs from the ceiling by ropes, his wrists bound so tightly that the skin around them is raw and bleeding nonstop, even though he can regenerate himself. His arms are stretched to the breaking point, leaving the fucker to dangle just slightly above the floor, his weight forcing his shoulders into a painful droop. 
This isn’t the room I chained him to the chair, much less the solitary room he went to next. This is an even more fun room.
The once clean boxers Vi had captured him in are now filthy, soaked with sweat, and streaked with blood. 
And, well, awesome. He’s pissing himself now.
Not surprising, really. Five days in these dungeons would break anyone. But still, the sight makes my stomach turn. I wonder if I’ll ever get rid of his stench in my nose.
His bare chest is a patchwork of deep, angry red gash. It’s obvious that Dad hadn’t been too gentle when he’d played with him. His head hangs low. One eye is swollen shut, grotesquely puffed, while the other is barely open, his gaze unfocused and hollow. 
Blood trickles from his split lip, carving a jagged path down his chin and dripping onto his chest in a slow, steady rhythm.  
The floor beneath him is a mess of grime, a dark pool where blood and other bodily fluids have mixed into a sticky, repugnant sludge. As disgusting as his rogue stench. Fuck. Me. Even his blood smells oily.
“Well,” I mutter, the sound of my haunting voice making him wince. “I see the hospitality here has been… stellar.”
Although the place is dirty, the metallic clink of the tools lined up neatly on a nearby steel table is spotless. It’s glinting in the low light. Dad had meticulously cleaned it after he used it. Knives, pliers, a crowbar, and even a blowtorch. The former Alpha always did have a flair for variety. Some tools are special—they slow werewolf healing and are really fucking hard to get, so not all tools are special.
I step closer, letting my boots land heavy against the sticky floor. His good eye flutters open, and I see the fear there when he sniffs my scent. He knows it’s me now and that there’s no mercy coming.  
I grab his chin, jerking his head up so he has no choice but to look at me. His swollen eye twitches, the bruised skin trembling under the pressure of my grip.  
Five days. Five fucking days in this dungeons, and still no answers.  
“You’ve had five fucking days to give me what I need,” I growl. His acrid, rogue smell wafts up, making my lips curl in disgust. “I was going to give you a week. But your time’s up. Let me make this crystal clear. I am *not* leaving this room until I get answers. You know you’re going to die. Whether that means it’s going to be quick and merciful or painfully slow and ruthless is entirely up to you.”
I release his face with a shove, letting his head loll forward again like a broken doll’s. The sound of his ragged breathing fills the room as I turn toward the table of tools, my fingers brushing over the cold metal handles. Just to torment him. Because I’ll use my bare hands on this. I am consumed by rage.
This motherfucker is the only thing standing between me and my fated mate. From finding the fucking witch. For less than a millisecond, green-meadow eyes flash in my mind, but I interrupt immediately as quickly as it arrives. Right now, I have something more important to concentrate on. “Mac Jackson, or should I call Fang?” 
His eyes widen, and his face pales. Yeah, motherfucker. I got you.
He bares his teeth at me with hatred in his one good eye. The injured eye is already starting to heal. “What do you know? Who are you?” 
“Well, Mac, I’m someone you don’t want to mess with. And, now you know I’m not fucking around.” 
“Fuck! I don’t even know you! How could I possibly have messed with you?” 
“Ahh, but you know the witch who I’m looking for, don’t you?”
“Let me go! Don’t kill me. You can’t fucking do this! They’ll come for me and kill you!” 
“Oh, Mac, that’s where you’re fucking wrong. No one will miss you. Because no one is—how can I put this in other words for you, Mac?—*feeling good enough* to come here to rescue you. Well, don’t count on Mason because he’s got a broken neck in the other room. After I found out what he did to one of my pack members, he didn’t deserve to breathe another breath. Not a very pleasant death from the angle his neck is right now if you ask me.”
“What? No! That can’t be true! Mason would never let himself get caught! He’s the best—”
“Hunter of you three, right?” His eyes widen even more. Now, even the freshly healed one is round. “The three rogues from the north.” My grin widens. “Ah, and don’t wait for Mick to rescue you, either. See, after I find out about what he did, I sent my Beta to have a few words with old Mick—” 
“But he doesn’t know where the witch is. Only I do.”
“Oh, I already know that.” I shrug. “But I let him aware that I didn’t appreciate the atrocities he did to those humans in his old pack. Well, he should be able to eat solids in a few weeks. But this won’t last long either.”
His hands clench into tight fists. “When I get out of here, you’re dead. You don’t know—”
“I know everything about you, Mac. The people you hurt, lied to, and killed. The pack you grew up, your other two brothers, Mick and Mason. The year you were born. And I even know the day of your death. Today.” 
The rogue man starts begging as I step close. Dad and Vi stand silently behind me. I feel the tension in the air between them both. They’re afraid that I’ll kill the fucker in front of me. I can’t deny it; after years of looking for that old witch, I’ve developed some rage issues. Beating this asshole will help me work through them. Hell, it will do wonders for my fury. And, Goddess, I’m sure as shit I have plenty of that right now.
Less than a minute later, Mac is begging loudly, “I’ll give you all the answers this time, I promise! I promise!” His eyes blink rapidly. “She’s in another state. She has this company—”
I punch him in the face. His head jerks back, even though I’ve controlled my strength.
The rotten stench of him tells me much. “You’re lying, Mac.” 
When my hand rips open the wound on his stomach that my father made earlier, he begs over and over. “Stop! Stop!”
“You don’t look so good,” I point out as I reach for the big opened gash on his compressed shoulder with my already bloodied fingers. “It would be a shame if you passed out on me now. We don’t want you to miss all the fun we’re yet to have, Mac.” 
He struggles to breathe. “I’ll tell you the truth! She’s far from Summerville.”
That gets my attention. “Where?” I say through my gritted teeth, involuntarily squeezing the exposed bone of his shoulder.
He cries out in pain. “She’s too far north. In the woods!” He says. “No one has access to where she is. I’ve only met her twice, I swear. But I know the direction of the place.”
True. I see the truth in his rotten aura. Besides fear and anger, it’s the first different reaction I’ve seen since he got here.
‘That doesn’t make sense, Ian. If she was that close, I would have found her by now.’
‘He’s not lying, Vi,’ I reply through mindlink.
‘Ethan’s right,’ my father says to us shortly after. ‘But there’s another pack to the north. If she’s there, the Alpha would have expelled her if not killed her first.’
‘Only if the Alpha already knows she’s been there this whole time,’ I reply to both of them.
‘Fuck. Werewolves and Witches? No fucking way,’ Vi says. ‘She must definitely be hiding. She’s deceitful and old. She knows how to hide; no wonder she snuck into our pack when we were kids, and no one noticed.’
“Where exactly is she?” I ask the rogue, completely unaware of the conversation between my family and me.
“I told you, she’s up north.” Mac answers. I don’t even need to confirm that it’s true. His scent also corroborates it. “Just over the bridge heading west. You’ll know you’re in the right place because there’s a sign for an old camp.”
‘I know where he’s referring to, son,’ my father says. ‘That camp was closed decades ago because the forest was too dense and the kids got lost too often.’
“I don’t know anything else, I swear!” He struggles to breathe before coughing, probably choking on blood. “That’s all I know about the witch!”
“I can see that’s true, Mac.”
He begs, “Then kill me now. Please. You promised if I told you—”
My hand moves from his shoulder to his neck, and I squeeze tightly. Then I tsk down at him. “Looks like we both lie then.”