Page 42 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

KELLAN

I grip my phone tighter, pacing the pavement, glass cracking underfoot as Brody’s voice crackles in my ear.

“One of our guys embedded in the Russian faction says he saw a black SUV fitting the description from the crash. It was headed across town, to the old harbor.”

My chest tightens, and I stop in my tracks. “What the hell would they take her there for?”

“Couldn’t say for sure. It’s out of the way, quiet, and maybe easy to hide someone there.”

“Or dispose of someone,” I mutter darkly, my jaw clenching.

Brody hesitates. “I didn’t want to say it, but yeah. If they think she’s leverage, that’s where they’ll take her.”

I hang up, shoving the phone in my pocket as I head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Rory’s voice stops me cold. He’s leaning against his desk, arms crossed, watching me like he already knows.

“To get Rose,” I growl, my fists clenching.

“And what are you planning to do? Storm the shipyard alone? That’s not enough to go on yet, Kellan. What if Brody’s source is wrong?”

“I’m not waiting around to find out!” I snap. “Every second we waste, she could?—”

“She could still be safe.” Rory steps in front of me, blocking the door. “You’re no good to her dead, Kellan. Use your head. We need more than a rumor before we make a move.”

The urge to punch something—anything—is almost overwhelming. My hands shake as I rake them through my hair, trying to rein in the panic inside my chest.

“Then what do you suggest?” I demand, my voice harsh.

“First, we gather the boys,” Rory instructs me. “We prepare for a fight because make no mistake, that’s what this is coming to. Then we force the Russians’ hand. If they want to talk, we’ll give them a reason to talk.”

“Fine,” I bite out. “But I’m not waiting forever, Rory.”

“We won’t,” he promises, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Kellan. And we’ll do it together.”

Half an hour later, we’re gathered together with the beginnings of a plan. Lucky’s checking weapons with grim efficiency, and Miles walks in moments later, his usually stoic expression taut with tension.

“You think this’ll work?” Lucky asks, not looking up from his gun.

“It has to,” I reply. “We call them, lay out the terms, and if they don’t listen…” I trail off, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

“They’ll listen,” Rory says, his voice a low growl.

Miles leans against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re sure the girl’s still alive? That video…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but we all know what he’s implying.

“She’s alive,” I say sharply, pulling the phone from my pocket to show them the video of Rose. I can barely look at it, but I need them to see what I’m seeing. Her face, tear-streaked but untouched, is burned into my brain.

Lucky mutters a curse under his breath. “What if they’re messing with us? They show us a video and think we’ll just take their word for it?”

“We need to act fast,” I say, feeling the pressure in my chest building. I run a hand through my hair again, trying to think clearly, but all I see is her face. “We call them now. Lay out the terms, and if they don’t cooperate, we make them regret it.”

Rory’s phone rings, cutting off the tension in the room. He looks at me before answering.

“We know you have the girl,” Rory says flatly when he picks up. “You have one chance to do the right thing. Hand her over, unharmed, or we’ll come for her. And when we do, we’ll burn everything you’ve ever touched to the ground.”

A long pause. Then Aleksey’s voice comes on the line, his tone cold. “You don’t make demands of us. If you want the girl, you’ll meet ours.”

Without another word, the line goes dead.

Rory doesn’t waste a second. He’s on his feet, eyes blazing with anger. “We need to hit them now, Kellan. You want Rose back? You show them we’re serious. Now. It’s time to put our plan into motion. We blow up Dariy, and they’ll know if they don’t return her, they’ll all go, one by one.”

I feel the tension surge between us, thick as a storm, but I refuse to move. “No. We’re not hitting them like that. We don’t have enough info yet, Rory. Not on where she is, not on what they’re really after.”

He takes a step forward, his jaw tight. “You’re playing it too damn soft. We’re wasting time, and you’re wasting my patience. You’ve got a daughter in their hands, Kellan. A little girl. And you’re standing here second-guessing?”

“I’m thinking about her life, Rory!” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. “If we make a move without knowing where she is, where we can get her back safe?—”

“Then what?” he interrupts, stepping up to me, his fists clenched in frustration. “You’re gonna keep playing nice and hope they just hand her over? What’s next? You don’t have the stomach for this anymore?”

I can feel the anger bubbling inside me. My chest is tight, my blood pounding in my ears. I know what he’s getting at, but I won’t let him push me into making the wrong decision. Not now. Not when Rose’s life is on the line.

“Back off, Rory,” I growl. “This isn’t about me. It’s about getting Rose back in one piece, not tearing apart everything we’ve worked for.”

Rory opens his mouth, ready to fire back, but the door to the pub slams open with a bang, cutting him off. Brody strides in, his face grim, his gaze fixed on me with purpose.

“Kellan,” he says, voice tense. “We know where Rose is.”

The words hit me like a shot to the chest, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. My heart skips a beat.

“Where?” My voice is sharp, but I don’t care. I just need to know.

“The old shipyard, the one near the abandoned canning factory. We’ve pinpointed her location.” Brody’s words spill out fast, urgent.

I don’t wait for another second. “Get the car ready,” I tell him, turning to Rory and Lucky. “We move out now.”

It feels like forever but soon, the old harbor works loom in front of us, the rusted steel skeletons and decaying walls casting long shadows over the area. The air smells of salt and oil, the once-bustling docks now reduced to nothing more than rotting warehouses and broken piers.

“We hit them hard,” I mutter, my voice low and gravelly as I look at my brothers. “No hesitation.”

Rory doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He slams his door shut with a sharp thud, already marching toward the massive, rusted gate that leads into the shipyard.

Lucky falls into step beside him, always steady, always calm, like he’s already seen the bloodshed we’re about to wade into.

Brody and Miles follow closely behind, their eyes scanning the shadows, their hands hovering near their weapons.

“You know the drill,” I snap, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions ripping through me. “Go after anyone who moves. Don’t let anyone slip away.”

“Understood,” Brody replies, his hand gripping the gun holstered on his side.

We move in formation, our boots echoing across the cracked concrete of the yard. The only sound is the soft lapping of water against the jagged rocks below the docks. There’s no sign of the Russians yet. It feels like a trap, but that’s exactly what I want. We’re the ones setting the trap now.

I signal to Rory, and he goes to work on the gate, shoving it open with a loud screech that breaks the silence of the night. The Russians know we’re here now. They’ve heard it. They have to have heard us coming.

As we move deeper into the shipyard, the sound of our footsteps is replaced by the crunch of gravel and debris beneath our boots. It feels like we’re walking into the belly of a beast.

Then, out of nowhere, a burst of gunfire echoes around us, slamming into the steel wall beside me. The force of the bullet makes my body jerk, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Take cover!” Rory yells, ducking behind an old cargo container.

The air is alive with the sound of gunshots now. It’s a mess of adrenaline and fury. I drop behind a stack of crates, every muscle in my body on edge, weapon tight in my hands.

We fire back, the sound of gunshots deafening in the tight space. I can barely hear my brothers over the chaos, but I know they’re right there, fighting beside me.

A Russian soldier rushes toward us from the shadows, his gun raised, but I’m faster. I pull the trigger, the bullet finding its mark in his chest. He crumples to the ground with a guttural gasp, his weapon falling from his hands.

“Keep moving!” I bark, pushing forward.

The sound of fists meeting flesh rings out as Miles takes down one of their men, a vicious punch to the gut, followed by a knee to the face. We’re matching them blow for blow, bullet for bullet now. The Russians might be strong, but we’re stronger. We have more to lose.

Blood stains the concrete, pooling beneath fallen bodies. The sound of gunfire starts to slow, the chaos thinning out. The Russians are retreating, losing ground. Their numbers are dwindling, and the sound of their desperate gunfire becomes more sporadic, like the final gasps of a dying animal.

“Get them on their knees,” I bark to my men.

A figure steps out from the shadows, hands raised, a taunting grin playing on his lips.

Dariy.

“We surrender, Brannagan,” Dariy says, his voice laced with mockery. “But don’t think for a second that this is over. Your precious girl is still ours.”

“Where is she?” I demand, adrenaline coursing through my body, ready to beat this man to death to save my little girl if I have to.

“You think you’ve won, but she’s hidden away in one of these containers.” He gestures toward the sea of old shipping containers that stretch out in front of us, towering high, casting deep shadows across the space. “There are hundreds of them, Brannagan. You’ll never find her in time.”

He turns his back on me, his men trailing behind. The trap was right in front of us all along. They might have lost the fight, but they’ve left me with a mountain of containers and no way to know which one holds my daughter.