Page 51 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)
Chapter Fifty
A putrid scent of death and decay permeates the air, mingled with the distinct metallic tang of spilled blood and the stale aroma of machine oil. It’s a sensory assault in this unholy melding of nature and technology.
James, the wolves, and I stealthily navigate the underground bunker. We are ghosts in the gloom, edging closer to the core of where Slavic has my mate.
As we twist through the snaking tunnels, we are confronted with more of his guards and something else.
He appears to be a man. However, his towering form exudes a menacing aura, eyes glinting with predatory coldness.
He is a monster bred for warfare, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle standing between us and Zirah.
Dragon. He isn’t from mine or Slavic’s kingdom but one of the kingdom’s Slavic’s in alliance with.
I just hope he is the only one here because dragon shifters are of a different caliber.
Luckily for me, we are in too small of a space for him to shift.
“Does your king know you’re here?” I growl. My senses hyper-focus on him, canines lengthening instinctively, muscles coiling like a spring, but he is a solid wall.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he opens his mouth and unleashes fire.
I barely move in time, yet the heat is searing when the guards yell for him to stop.
It only takes me moments to notice the explosives strapped to the walls.
He may be fireproof, but none of us are, and neither are the rest of Slavic’s guard.
He growls menacingly and charges. I also run at him, but he has more reach than me and grabs a fist full of fur, flinging me to the back of a cell.
I hit the wall with a thud, my body chipping away at the rock.
Groaning, I roll onto my hands and knees only to spot a sight far more chilling than any adversary, and it freezes me in place.
Malachi’s body. Lifeless.
He’s been discarded on the grimy floor of this hellhole.
The sight is a punch to the gut—as if all the air has been forcibly expelled from my lungs.
James rushes over and punches the dragon shifter who tossed me like a feather, stopping his advance in time for me to get to my feet.
However, it takes him seconds to spot his brother dead on the floor.
“Malachi?” he murmurs, dropping to his knees beside his younger brother. His agonized whisper echoes in the cavernous space, “Malachi...”
A raw, guttural sob shreds the eerie silence, reverberating through the stark corridors.
It’s a sound no older brother should have to make, a pain so profound it claws at my heart.
James’s hand trembles as he reaches out.
The cold, unyielding feel of death beneath his fingertips is a harrowing reality.
Suddenly, my grief is shattered by the thrumming footfalls of guards descending upon us. Yet even in the face of imminent danger, James remains kneeling by Malachi, a statue frozen in anguish.
“James, release the coven!” I bellow as I am tossed into yet another wall by this dragon shifter. There’s no time for tears. Not now. We must survive, then he can break all he wants.
The wolves and I charge the dragon man. The clash of bodies, the symphony of snarls and growls, the hissing of fire—it’s all drowned by the pounding in my head.
As I fight, James moves into action, finding the keys on a nearby guard.
The key clanks in the steel doors, and the faces of the liberated coven members shift from complete terror to resolute anger as they stand.
They help James take down the guards using whatever their hands touch as weapons when fire bursts past me and hits the wall.
Suddenly, explosions go off, and Hunter’s body hits me with enough force to knock me backward.
The roof caves in, and I scramble backward as the avalanche of rock tumbles to the ground, crushing and blocking us from the guards and the dragon shifter. A hand grips my shoulder, and suddenly, I am jerked away just as the cell wall crumbles. Looking up, I find my father staring down at me.
“You were told to wait outside!” I snap.
“Good thing I didn’t,” he retorts as I get to my feet.
“And Leila?”
“With Shadow, I was getting bored, and the girl talks far too much.”
Moving to the tunnels, we do a headcount. Luckily, none of the coven were killed, and some are already running for the exits when I spot Kelly. “Where is Zirah?” I ask.
“With your brothers, Slavic ordered us to be taken, but only half the coven was before you showed up.”
“But they’re alive?” my father asks.
“Yes, last I saw of them, your sons were still alive. Slavic knows Zirah won’t bring back his son without them. He’s using them as leverage,” Kelly explains.
“His son. He’s been dead for a while,” I tell her.
“Yes, I know, but he wants to resurrect the dead and thinks Zirah is the way to,” Kelly informs me.
“And where is Malachi? Where is my brother?” My father demands, his voice momentarily quelling the storm of conflict. An icy silence descends, chilling and foreboding, and I look at James. “Well, is someone going to answer?” my father snaps.
“Malachi...is dead,” I tell him.
The statement hangs in the air, and my father staggers back a step. James reaches out and drops a hand on my father’s shoulder. My father shrugs him off. “I will lead the coven out,” he states, turning on his heel and heading back the way he came.
“We’ll be coming with you. There is no way past here now, I need to find another entry,” I tell him.
“The western border. That’s where he is holding them. He had his guard move everyone,” Kelly informs me. I nod, following her and taking up the back on the off chance a hidden tunnel exists in this maze.