Page 102 of His Claim

She was on her knees, her wrists bound. Her clothes were torn, soaked with dirt and blood. One of the soldiers gripped her hair, forcing her head up toward the light. With the other hand, he held a blade to her throat. She didn’t flinch.

The man beside her stepped forward on the raised dais. He was tall, severe, every inch the personification of the Council’s arrogance. His uniform was a dark slate color, his polished boots gleaming. A silver insignia glinted at his throat.

Commander Darius Voss.

I knew his face. Everyone did. Quite literally a monster in a human suit.

He was the Council’s main architect, the man who had designed the breeding programs. The man who was responsible for the death of thousands of women—my Elena—and now he held Mariah’s life in his hands.

“Commander Varek!” he called, his voice echoing down the street. “I know you’re out there.”

His words carried on the smoke, smooth and clear. He was enjoying this.

“I have something that belongs to you.”

The soldier yanked Mariah’s head up and back by her hair. The knife pressed against her throat, catching the light in a perfect, gleaming line. A thin bead of red welled up where it touched her skin.

He was as good as dead.

“Come take her, Commander,” Voss said, smiling faintly. “Come and take your pet.”

Every muscle in my body went rigid, but I tempered my rage, at least for the moment.

“They have Mariah,” I growled, pressing the button on my comm and informing the others.

The comm in my ear buzzed with voices, Silas growling louder than any of the others. “We can flank them,” he said. “Circle through the old tram station.”

“No,” I said. I almost didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice, it was so laden with violent rage. “If they see us move, they’ll kill her before we’re close enough to stop it.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Rowan asked next, his voice tight.

“I’m going in.”

“Varek—” Soren started, my comm bursting with sound in my ear, but I cut her off.

“I’m going.”

I holstered my rifle, raising my hands slowly as I stepped into the open street. The soldiers saw me immediately. A ripple moved through their ranks, rifles rising in perfect unison.

“There he is!” one shouted.

I kept walking. The ground crunched under my boots. The wind shifted.

Voss spread his arms, mockingly pleasant. “Ah, the infamous Commander Varek. The wolf who turned on his masters. I wondered how long it would take before you came crawling back to me.”

He gestured lazily toward Mariah. “Here’s the choice, then. You and your foolish little rebellion surrender, or she dies.”

I stopped twenty feet from the platform. A small contingent of the soldiers shifted, forming a semicircle around my mate and aiming their guns at her.

“Let her go,” I said.

“Or what?” Voss asked, his smile widening. “You’ll snarl at me? You can’t even shift, can you? I can smell the suppressant all over you.”

He turned toward Mariah and crouched down, his hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him. “She’s quite something, though. A fearless little spitfire. I can see why you mated her.”

“Let her go,” I repeated, seeking to instill every ounce of my rage into my words.

Voss looked back at me. “On your knees, Commander. Hands behind your head.”