Page 37

Vero halted his UTV in front of the lodge headquarters and quickly assisted the six mates out that he’d crammed inside. One by one, they climbed out, worry etched into every line of their faces. Normally, their chatter filled any space they occupied, but today, they moved in silence, weighed down by fear for their ill mates. He ushered them toward the lodge entrance, his promise to the soldiers echoing in his mind—he would return for them once the fem ales were safe.

As the UTV door clicked shut, Silas limped out of the lodge, his steps heavy. His expression was grim, his words clipped, his hands shaking. “Lyrica’s gone,” he said wi thout preamble.

Jonathan stumbled out behind him, pale and shuddering wildly. Blood trickled from a deep gash above his ear, his normally steady hands trembling as if they wouldn’t obey his commands. “I’m so sorry,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “I tried to stop him, b ut I couldn’t.”

Vero froze, words catching in his throat before he forced himself to speak. “Who?” His tone was ice, dangero us in its calm.

“Lukas.” Jonathan doubled over and dry-heaved into a snowbank. No vomit came, just raw, wrenching gasps. He clutched his stomach, his voice breaking as he continued. “I figured out he’s one of the Defenders. Something he said, it just clicked. God, I tried to stop him, but he got to Lyrica before I could get her away.”

“You’re telling me that kid is one of the Defenders?” Vero’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice low and vibrating with r estrained fury.

Jonathan nodded weakly. “Yeah. I think he’s the one killing the human females. And now he’s taken Lyrica.”

Rage shot through Vero like wildfire, hot and all-consuming. His boots crunched against the snow as he surged toward Jonathan, fists ready to make him pay f or his failure.

Silas stepped in, placing a shaking hand on Vero’s chest. “Stop. Jonathan tried to save her. He fought hard. Look at him—he crawled back here, bleeding and puking, just to tell us what happened. He did everyt hing he could.”

Vero stopped, forcing himself to breathe. His vision blurred with fury, but he stepped back, giving Jonathan a moment of reprieve. “Fine,” he growled. “Tell me everything.”

Jonathan wiped a pale hand across his mouth. “They headed east in the UTV,” he said weakly. “I tried to follow on his snowmobile, but I crashed into a tree. It wouldn’t start again. I passed out and… I don’t even remember crawling back here. I just knew I had to tell you.” He looked up, guilt etched deeply into hi s fevered face.

Vero’s chest constricted, fear clawing at him like a living thing. It was foreign, unwelcome, but impossible to ignore. He turned to Silas, his ex pression tight.

Silas’s phone buzzed sharply, breaking the tense silence. He answered immediately. “Hi, King Paxton. What’ve you got? You do? Okay, can you trace it back?” He paused, his free hand tightening into a fist. “You’re sure? Yeah, I’ll hold.” Seconds stretched into eternity before he nodded sharply. “Got it.” He ended the call and turned back to Vero. “As soon as Jonathan showed up, I called Paxton, and he had the Realm hack into the nearest satellites since I didn’t want to leave the main lodge and find a computer. Plus, the Realm is fast. Hope traced the UTV’s last location.” He rattled off t he coordinates.

Jonathan groaned, his legs giving out as he collapsed onto the snow.

Vero went cold. “Stay inside and guard the females. I’ll be back.”

“Of course,” Silas muttered, crouching to lift the unconscious soldier. He hefted Jonathan’s limp body over his shoulder. “I’ll drag him into the kitchen,” he said, meeting Vero’s gaze. “King Paxton is headed this way, jus t so you know.”

Vero didn’t think he could keep his brother away. “Call him and tell him to remain with the Realm soldiers on the perimeter when they finally arrive.” Hopefully in time to protect the territory from any oncoming threat. “I don’t want to see him until tomorrow night, in time for the Convexus. Remind him to fuck ing stay safe.”

“Yes, sir,” Silas said, sweating profusely and staggering under Jon athan’s weight.

Vero nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ll be back with my mate…and answers.” He ran to the UTV. The frigid air bit at his face, but he barely felt it. His mate needed him, and nothing—not snow, not Defenders, not death itself— would stop him.

* * * *

Lyrica fought with every ounce of strength she could muster as Lukas dragged her from the UTV, his grip unrelenting as he hauled her toward the cabin. She shrieked, her legs kicking wildly, and managed to drive her elbow into his groin. He let out a strangled curse and dropped her. Scrambling to get away, she had barely moved when he recovered, grabbing her hair and twisting hard enough to make her scalp burn.

“Stop fighting,” he growled, dragging her across the icy, rocky ground. Each sharp edge and jagged patch of ice tore into her thighs and legs, shredding her jeans. Lyrica clawed at his hands, her nails biting into his gloves, but he only chuckled.

“Feisty. I like that,” he said, yanking her roughly up the two wooden porch stairs. The door creaked as he shoved it open, and she tumbled into a sofa table. Pain radiated through her temple as she slammed into the edge.

Lukas kicked the door shut and turned to face her, his grin stretching wide. “I made it nice and toasty for you.” He gestured to the roaring fire crackling in th e stone hearth.

Lyrica staggered to her feet, one hand braced on the sofa table for balance. She forced herself to look at him despite the pounding in her skull. “You’re seventeen,” she spat. “You can’t seriously be a psychopathic rapist and k iller already.”

“Oh, but I can,” he replied cheerfully, spreading his arms wide. “I’m just getting started. Think how good I’ll be in fifty years. O r two hundred.”

The thought churned her stomach. She glanced around frantically, searching for a weapon. The coffee table held nothing more than a few magazines, and the quiet kitchen gleamed with its pristine, untouch ed countertops.

Lukas followed her gaze and smirked. “Yeah, this place is brand new. No one’s moved in yet. I figured you and I could make good use of it. Well, until I strangle you a nd freeze you.”

His words hit her like a punch. “ You’re insane.”

“Not even close. Do you have a favorite snowbank in mind? I’ll let you choose your resting place. But first, we have some fun.” He started toward her, and she to ok a step back.

“What about the virus?” she asked quickly, desperate to buy time. “Will it kill everyone?”

He paused as if willing to play with her a bit. “Maybe. Like I already said, that’s not my department.”

“Whose is it?”

“You don’t know him. A guy named Laker, who is some genius virologist.” Lukas tilted his head, as if considering her. “He’s not here, though. Stays outside the territory.”

Her mind raced, trying to place the name. She came up blank. “He brought in the victims, didn’t he? The ones we coul dn’t identify.”

“Oh yeah. I’d meet him while on patrol and then report in all was well since our satellites weren’t live yet. We’re supposed to patrol in pairs, but as a kid, I can take off on my own and nobody really cares. So, if I went hill climbing and met my buddy, no one was the wiser.” He snorted. “The human females didn’t like the several days of riding to get here, but by the time they reached me, they still had some fight left. That mad e it more fun.”

Lyrica gagged, pivoting slightly, readying herself to strike. “Who were tho se poor women?”

“My playthings,” he said. “Laker found them in different cities, both homeless and probabl y sex workers.”

She had to get out of there and track down their relatives. Somehow. “You’re sick,” she snapped, her voice shaking.

“You don’t have any training, do you?” Lukas’s expression turned almost pitying, though his amusement remained. “That’s what I thought.” He sighed, his face dropping into something colder. “Too bad. I do love a good fight.”

“What about Genevieve?” she asked, grasping for any leverage she could. Had she been mated long enough for the mating allergy to have kicked in? Hopefully? “Genevi eve loves you.”

“She’s a stupid female,” he said with a scoff. “But she was a good cover. I’ll kill her next.”

Lyrica’s stomach twisted violently. “Lukas, this isn’t who y ou want to be.”

“It’s exactly who I want to be,” he said. “Now, take off your clothes.” His hand lifted. “Or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m going to th row up on you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, taking a step closer.

Her legs trembled, her heart hammering. She tried to steel herself, but his size and strength loomed over her like a shadow. At six foot seven, the trained soldier could crush her. She needed a plan, and she needed it fast. “You know Vero’s going to kill you, right?” she asked, her voice rising as p anic seeped in.

He snorted. “Vero should be puking his guts out by now. But even if he isn’t, he has no clue it’s me. I could take him from b ehind so fast—”

“No, you can’t,” she interrupted, hoping her mating allergy had kicked in already. “He’l l destroy you.”

Lukas’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t g et the chance.”

He lunged for her. Before his hands could reach her, the front door exploded inward, splintering in all directions. Lyrica stumbled back, her breath caught in her chest. Lukas spun, but Vero was already on him. He grabbed the traitor by the neck and flung him face-first into the fire. Lukas screamed, his voice high and piercing as flames lick ed at his skin.

“Are you okay?” Vero asked over the sound of burning flesh. His black eyes, rimmed with the faintest touch of blue, locked on hers.

She nodded, trembling. “Yeah. Bruised, but I’m fine . Is Jonathan—”

“Not great,” Vero interrupted, pressing Lukas harder into the flames. The smell of scorched flesh filled the room, acrid a nd suffocating.

The smell nearly dropped her to her knees. “Vero,” she shoute d. “You can’t—”

“Oh, he’s going to die,” Vero said coldly. “But not yet. He’s going to answer a lot of questions first.” With one sharp yank, he pulled the unconscious soldier out of the fire and dropped him to the ground . “Don’t look.”

Lyrica swallowed hard and forced her gaze away.

“Go wait in my UTV,” Vero ordered. His tone left no roo m for argument.

Her legs shook. “Vero, don’t—”

“Now.”

The raw command in his voice propelled her outside. The freezing wind bit into her cheeks as she reached the UTV, the hum of its engine a small comfort in the oppressive quiet. She climbed inside and gripped the heated seat, her entir e body shaking.

It was half an hour before Vero emerged. His hands were burned red and raw, his expression grim. He climbed into the driver’s seat, silen t and seething.

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“Exactly what needed to be done,” he said, peeling away from the cabin.