Page 22

WREN

My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d braced for this moment since I’d escaped Red River. I’d trained for it, run through countless scenarios. But nothing had prepared me for this.

I’d expected a snatch-and-grab or an all-out assault. But here was Bastian Boudreaux, sitting at the bar like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he hadn’t murdered my mother or tortured me for years on end.

“You look surprised to see me, Fleur.”

The use of my birth name had me wincing, a reminder of the endless lashes, broken bones, and burns. But I didn’t let myself drop my gaze. If I gave Bastian that submission, it would mean letting him know he’d won.

“You’re not welcome here,” I ground out, my fingers dropping to my pocket to pull my blade.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bastian cooed. “So many breakable humans around. You seem especially fond of that elderly couple. Maybe I’ll start with them. Rip out their jugulars before you can even retrieve whatever’s in your pocket.”

My mouth went dry, and my fingers stilled. He would do it, too. Bastian had no regard for human or supernatural life. The only thing he cared about was more . More money. More power. More beings under his will.

“That’s better,” Bastian said, easing back on the stool. “It’s good to see you’ve found some of that fight. It’ll be all the more fun to break you all over again.”

My hands fisted at my sides as my wolf snarled. My fingernails lengthened to claws, pricking my palms. I focused on the flicker of pain, anything to keep myself from shifting.

Bastian was truly evil. The few times my empath shields had wavered around him, the inky blackness of his soul had nearly drowned me. It was the kind of evil without a cure. The only answer was for it to be snuffed out altogether. But that wouldn’t be easy.

“What? No greeting for your old man? No hug?” Bastian challenged, his eyes twinkling.

“The only hug you’re getting is a blade between the ribs,” I snarled.

His brown eyes sparked gold. “You could try, Little Flower. But you’d fail. Fail because you’re so goddamned weak. A stain on my name.”

I lifted my chin and still didn’t look away. “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t carry your name. I don’t want a damn thing to do with you.”

Bastian’s jaw worked back and forth as a hint of his anger sparked in his expression. “You never showed me the proper respect, you little slut. You should be bowing to kiss my feet. Grateful I didn’t slice your throat the second I took you in. A bastard hybrid,” he spat.

Fury swept through me in hot waves. Bastian had always hated that my mother was a caster. Never mind the fact that he was the one who’d slept with her. Apparently, other species were fine to warm his bed but not to bear his young.

Maybe it was his rage at not being able to have another child. He’d certainly tried. Almost every woman in Red River had been forced to try to give him a true heir. They’d all failed.

I glared at the man in front of me. “It’s not my fault your sperm is weak. That it took the magic in my mother’s womb for a child to take hold.”

Bastian bared his teeth at me, his canines lengthening. “You’ll pay for that. Pay in blood and flesh. Your child will be my heir. Marcelle can’t wait.”

Bile surged up my throat. My father’s beta was possibly more twisted than him. His joy at inflicting pain was unparalleled, and at least half the scars on my body were thanks to him.

“No.” Even though my body trembled at the fear and memory taking hold, my voice didn’t shake.

Bastian’s brown eyes went pure gold, the alpha assuming control. “What did you say to me?”

It was a word I’d never uttered in his presence before, and certainly not in response to the beast himself.

“No.” There was a finality in the single syllable. A defiance I’d needed to own for so long.

“You dare to defy me?” Bastian’s voice made the silverware on the bar top rattle.

“I. Don’t. Belong. To. You.”

Anger hit me in brutal waves, the emotion raking across my shields in painful slashes. And then there was something more. Bastian’s alpha power. It blazed out of him, nearly making my knees buckle.

“You will submit,” he growled.

I gripped the edge of the bar, trying to keep myself upright.

“You will come with me and do exactly as I say, or I will dismantle your life, piece by piece. I will slaughter every being who has given you a kind word. And I’ll save the worst for those bastard wolves who gave you sanctuary.”

A whimper left my lips, and pain spiked through my skull—the price of trying to fight off Bastian’s alpha authority. I felt a trickle of blood from my nose and knew I was losing.

“Submit,” he snarled.

Then, a new voice joined his. It was familiar but darker than I’d ever heard it before. “The hell she will.”