Page 29

CAIUS WAS going to burn the entire Order to the ground. They were the only ones who could have orchestrated taking Max so quickly and easily, though Savino was a close second. It was a toss-up on which had researched Caius and reached out to his old pack.

He’d caught his uncle’s scent where Max’s ended, and he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been. Kostas hadn’t been happy at all when he’d taken over the pack, only to learn that all the assets had been legally transferred to Caius upon his father’s death.

Caius had struggled with the guilt over leaving those loyal to his father behind when he’d stayed with the Marines, then later formed his own pack, but they’d had a chance to leave.

He’d sent word to Leon, one of the few he trusted implicitly, that any who wanted to join his pack would be welcome, but the response was radio silence.

If Kostas was here now, declaring war on his tiny pack, likely in the hopes that all the assets would return to him as next of kin, then he certainly didn’t know that if anything happened to Caius, or subsequently his pack members, all the money was set to be distributed into various charities to help packless teens and disabled veteran shifters.

Kostas would never see a cent. Especially since Caius intended to rip his uncle’s throat out with his own teeth before the day was over.

The surges of pain only confirmed his suspicions.

A mage was helping Kostas try to break the bindings, and only a mage with explicit instructions from the Order, or by request from the bound mage, would ever attempt such a thing.

With how bad the last one was, he was surprised Max was still holding onto them.

The fact the bonds were still intact despite the pain was a relief and proof that Max wanted to remain with them.

If they did break, he had no doubt Kostas would bind Max by force, and the idea of a mage under his uncle’s control was almost as horrifying as knowing it would be Max.

Aradia chirped impatiently from her perch on the dashboard.

“I know,” Quinn snapped. “Just give me a sec.” He was still slumped against the steering wheel, knuckles white where he gripped it.

Somehow, he’d managed to pull over and stop when the pain hit instead of crashing.

“They’re trying to break the bonds, aren’t they?

” he asked, his voice tight as he took slow, controlled breaths.

“Yes,” Caius answered. “We need to hurry.” He glanced at the tablet Quinn had shoved into his hands on their way out the door, but it was still showing Signal Lost. Max had his phone with him, but the tracking app was being blocked. Thankfully, familiar bonds couldn’t be blocked so easily.

“Right.” Quinn sucked in a deep breath and got them back on the road.

Aradia chirped and flicked her tail, guiding Quinn to take the off-ramp. Then they drove a few miles into a rundown neighborhood, where Aradia started barking.

“Stop here,” Caius said. He didn’t like this.

They didn’t have the benefit of the dark to hide their approach.

It was barely past noon, and whoever Kostas had brought with him would pick up their scents before they got close enough to break in.

And they were missing Lukas, who arguably had the best tactical mind between the three of them.

He studied Aradia, at how she was staring intently to the east, at a house behind the one across from them. “Next street over?” he asked, and received an affirmative chirp.

“What’s the plan?”

“Don’t die. Kill my uncle. Get Max.” Finding the Order and anyone else responsible for this could come later, after they found Lukas.

“Great plan. How do you suggest we actually accomplish that?”

Caius grimaced. “Still working on that.”

Aradia lifted into the air with a gentle swirl of wind magic, landed on the power button for the window to roll it down, and promptly flew out of it.

So much for coming up with a plan.

He shared a quick look with Quinn before they got out, grabbing weapons from their hidden stash in the spare tire compartment.

Their guns wouldn’t do much against shifters since they didn’t carry aconite bullets, but they did have several custom-made blades with aconite coating tucked into durable sheaths.

Tactical blades he’d invested in shortly after Kostas took over the pack, in case his uncle sent someone after him to ensure Caius wouldn’t challenge him later.

Black steel, a smooth, sharp edge, and a finger ring on the end for added stability and security.

They each took two and secured one each to their inside wrist and thigh, then rushed after Aradia .

There were enough trees, bushes, and abandoned gardens filled with overgrown weeds to at least offer a little cover as they slipped through one of the yards and over a broken privacy fence.

The moment Caius hit the ground on the other side, several scents hit him at once. His uncle and several members of his pack. Max. Blood and fear sweat. And a few scents he recognized from his meeting with Savino, trace smells he’d picked up while in Max’s home.

A soft, low growl built in his chest as he stalked forward.

Only one wolf was guarding the door, an older man who’d always worshipped Kostas and helped him take over the pack.

Caius saw the moment of recognition in his eyes, but before the guard could call out a warning, Caius rushed him, slamming him into the side of the house.

He took a fist to the gut, grunting through it as he drove a dagger into the man’s neck.

He shifted his weight, clamping his left hand over the man’s mouth, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and the sound of hissing as aconite burned through shifter blood.

It didn’t take long for the blood loss and aconite poisoning to do their job, and Caius let the lifeless body slump to the ground. He glanced back, but Quinn had already found his own way in. Likely to find the breaker or another way to cause chaos.

The door was unlocked, and he let himself inside, flexing his hand until claws appeared and using the enhanced strength to twist the handle. That should slow down anyone trying to get in or out.

He turned and found five of Kostas’ pack in the living room. Three were on their feet, finally noticing something was wrong. He adjusted his dagger and readied himself, but they all froze, their eyes widening with recognition.

“Where is he?” Caius demanded, not bothering to clarify who. He’d take either Kostas or Max right then.

Movement behind him made him spin and raise his dagger against an attack that wasn’t there.

At least not physically. A wall of water slammed into him.

The force was enough that he skidded across the living room.

Hands grabbed his arms, and he twisted the dagger around, feeling it sink into flesh even as the water coalesced around his head to drown him.

Like hell he was dying here. He wasn’t going to let his uncle get away with this, and he sure as hell wasn’t abandoning Max.

The water heated quickly, and he knew if he didn’t drown, he’d die of shock from severe burns soon.

He forced his eyes open despite the burning pain and yanked his dagger free.

There was a shadow of a figure in front of him, and he prayed it was the mage as he followed through with the momentum and threw the dagger.

Water surged in front of her and hardened to ice, but not fast enough. The dagger sliced through without slowing until it came to a stop in her chest.

The bubble around Caius’ head exploded outward, and he gasped for air, turning to the wolf still gripping his left arm. He didn’t bother pulling his other dagger free. Instead, he twisted enough to slam his head into the other man’s face, then punched him in the throat when he stumbled back.

“Kostas!” he yelled, kicking the man’s knee and hearing it snap before turning to the others.

Two were still sitting with shocked expressions, the third who’d stood lifting his hands up in surrender.

Caius hesitated as he got a decent look at them. They were young. Far too young to be caught up in this. He didn’t recall any of them from before he left for the Marines over twenty years ago, but he doubted they would have even been born then.

None of them made a move to attack, and he was grateful for it; he hated killing kids.

“Where?” he snarled, but he didn’t need a response. He caught his uncle’s scent and spun around, moving to the other side of the room as he listened to the deliberately slow footsteps echoing down the hall.

He glanced at the mage where she’d fallen to the floor.

Her eyes were unfocused, but she was still breathing, her chest spasming with short, sharp gasps.

She clutched at the knife with one hand, where barely any blood was soaking her shirt.

If she managed to use her magic to keep herself alive, they could use her to find those in the Order responsible for this, but he turned his attention to his uncle as he stepped into the room.

If he’d been younger, the blatantly disappointed look might have chastised him. Now it only pissed him off. “You took a member of my pack.”

“He’s mine now. You should have protected him better.”

Caius startled as the words punched through his chest, not only because they were true, but because they were an echo of what Kostas said to his father when his mother died. “Fucking bastard,” he hissed .

With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled the second dagger free and hurled it at Kostas. He didn’t expect it to find its mark; he only needed the few seconds of distraction. The sharp hiss as the blade at least cut flesh was satisfying enough.

His shirt ripped in his haste to toss it aside, and he kicked his pants away as he shifted.

It’d been a year since he’d last let his wolf free.

A year since the injury that resulted in his medical discharge.

The silver-blue veins of aconite poisoning were bad enough in his human form, limiting his arm’s range of motion.

He had no idea how badly it would hamper his movements as a wolf, but the added speed, agility, and strength would surely make up for it.

The world readjusted as he landed on four paws, and he breathed deep.

The three younger wolves were still petrified behind him, their fear turning the air sour.

He knew that fear wasn’t because of him.

They were likely terrified of the punishment Kostas was sure to deal out for them not dying with the others.

The dagger clattered to the floor, and Caius focused on the wound where it had sunk into his uncle’s arm. He had to fight back the instinct to attack there. Blood meant weakness, but the aconite could poison him just as easily if he came in contact with the wound.

Instead, he focused on Kostas’ leg, launching himself across the room as his uncle began to shift, but it was immediately apparent how slow Kostas was.

Slow enough that Caius clamped onto Kostas’ thigh, his teeth sinking into the mostly human flesh.

Blood filled his mouth and he snarled, shaking his head to rend muscle and do as much damage as possible before he let go.

He jumped back as flesh turned to fur and Kostas finished his shift with a howl.

Already, his left foreleg ached, a mild burn flooding his senses as the aconite still in his body stabilized, but there was no searing pain.

No hissing of his blood as the poison activated.

The doctors had promised they’d rendered the remnants inert, but there’d always been a lingering fear of what if.

He may not have had much to live for a year ago, but he never reached the point of actively seeking death.

Kostas shook himself and growled as he limped around Caius.

He snarled as he moved to keep Kostas in his sight, letting his uncle’s blood drip from his teeth. The sour tang of fear spiked from the three watching, and he distantly wondered if this was their first time seeing a true fight between alphas. One that could only end in death.

Kostas stumbled and Caius hunched, ready to pounce on the moment of weakness, but his battle instincts from two decades in the Marines urged him not to. Those instincts proved to be right as Kostas bared his teeth and leapt, driving Caius to the ground despite his efforts to dodge.

They rolled, claws and teeth ripping fur and flesh. Teeth sank into his bad shoulder. His claws raked across Kostas’ belly. Blood spilled hot from their wounds before they broke apart.

Then he heard the distant report of a rifle firing, right before something exploded.