Chapter 195
Lynette's POV
The lights behind us flared to life.
I turned. My stomach dropped.
They were wheeling something onto the stage. A body. Covered with a white sheet, but the shape was unmistakable.
The sheet was stained dark red in places. Too many places.
Kael's hand found mine in the crowd. His grip was tight. Protective.
The guards pulled back the sheet.
I heard gasps. Someone retched.
The enhanced guard's body was... destroyed. Deep claw marks tore across his chest. His throat was ripped open. Bite marks on his arms. His face frozen in a final expression of shock.
This wasn't a quick kill.
This was brutal. Efficient. The work of someone who knew exactly how to take down an enhanced werewolf.
My mind catalogued the wounds automatically. The angle of the claw marks. The depth of the bites. The pattern of the attack.
Whoever did this was experienced. Trained. Deadly.
And they knew werewolf anatomy better than most werewolves.
The hall was silent except for the sound of people breathing too fast.
Then the doors slammed open.
Belser stormed in. His white suit was wrinkled. His face red with anger.
"What the hell is this?" His voice cut through the silence like a whip.
Dr. Glenn turned. His expression was carefully blank. "Mr. Belser. I was just—"
"You were just what?" Belser's voice shook. "Making decisions without me? Displaying our property like some kind of circus show?"
Glenn's jaw tightened. "I'm protecting our investment. There's a killer on this ship."
"So you thought the best response was to create mass panic?" Belser stepped closer. "You thought showing everyone a mutilated corpse would help?"
I felt Kael's thumb brush against my knuckles. Once. Twice.
Our signal. Stay calm. Stay hidden.
I kept my face blank. Just another scared guest in the crowd.
But my mind was racing.
This wasn't about the murder. Not really.
This was about power. Control.
Belser and Glenn were fighting over who ran this ship.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," Glenn said. His voice was cold now. "While you've been playing host, I've been ensuring our product's safety."
"Your product?" Belser's laugh was sharp. "Last I checked, Limen Research belongs to the organization. Not to you."
Glenn's face went pale. Then red.
"Limen should be mine," he said. Each word was clipped. Precise. "It was always supposed to be mine. I built this. I created the formula. You're just the face they put in front to make it look legitimate."
The air in the hall changed.
People were backing away now. Creating distance.
Two enhanced guards moved to stand behind Glenn. Their faces were blank. But their hands were ready.
Belser looked at them. Then at Glenn.
"Are you threatening me?" His voice was quiet. Dangerous.
Glenn smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm taking what's mine."
He made a small gesture.
The guards moved fast. One grabbed Belser's arms, twisting them behind his back. Another pressed a cloth over his mouth—the chemical smell made my stomach turn.
Belser struggled, his eyes wide with shock and fury. His hand fumbled toward his collar—where I'd seen him activate the child-machines before. But nothing happened. The guards had planned this well.
"Signal jammer," Kael murmured beside me, so quiet only I could hear. "Glenn came prepared."
The guards were strong, trained. They dragged Belser toward a side door, his expensive shoes scraping uselessly against the floor.
But the enhanced guards were too strong.
His shoes scraped against the floor. His muffled shouts got quieter. Quieter.
Then the door closed.
Silence.
Glenn straightened his lab coat. Adjusted his glasses.
Like nothing had happened.
I felt sick.
Kael's hand squeezed mine harder.
Glenn turned back to the crowd. His smile was pleasant. Professional.
"My apologies for the interruption," he said. "Now. Where were we?"
He gestured at the body.
"Ah yes. The killer."
He walked to the edge of the stage. His eyes swept across the crowd.
"Someone on this ship murdered one of our enhanced guards," he said. "This wasn't random. This wasn't an accident. This was a trained werewolf. A skilled fighter."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"A werewolf assassin?"
"Which Pack sent them?"
"Why would they kill an enhanced guard?"
Glenn raised his hand. The murmurs stopped.
"We will find the killer," he said. "But we need your cooperation. Your patience."
His eyes landed on me for just a second.
My heart stopped.
Then his gaze moved on.
"If anyone has information," Glenn continued, "please come forward. Otherwise..."
He paused.
"We'll have to check everyone ourselves."
The threat hung in the air.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Glenn waited. Five seconds. Ten.
Then he nodded.
"Very well."
He snapped his fingers.
The doors at the back of the hall opened.
Ten enhanced guards walked in. They moved in perfect formation. Their faces blank. Their eyes empty.
They spread out along the walls. Blocking every exit.
People started to panic.
"You can't keep us here!"
"I demand to speak to—"
"This is illegal!"
Glenn's voice cut through the noise.
"No one leaves until we find the killer."
An enhanced guard grabbed the nearest werewolf. A middle-aged man in an expensive suit.
"What are you—"
The guard twisted his arm. Hard.
I heard the crack from across the room.
The man screamed.
The guard dropped him. Moved to the next person.
People were backing away now. Pressing against each other. Trying to stay out of reach.
But there was nowhere to go.
Kael pulled me closer. His body was tense. Ready.
I forced my hands to stay relaxed. Forced my breathing to stay even.
Don't react. Don't give them a reason to look at you.
Another guard grabbed a woman. She tried to fight back. Shifted partially. Her claws extended.
The guard caught her wrist. Bent it backwards.
Another crack.
Another scream.
My fingers curled into fists.
Kael leaned down. His lips barely moved.
"Don't."
I knew he was right.
But watching this... doing nothing...
It went against every instinct I had.
Glenn walked along the edge of the stage. Watching. His expression was almost curious.
"Interesting," he said. "I wonder which of you will break first."
He was enjoying this.
Testing everyone. Pushing to see who would react. Who would reveal themselves.
This wasn't about finding the killer.
This was about control. About showing everyone on this ship that he was in charge now.
And there was nothing any of us could do about it.
The guards kept moving through the crowd. Grabbing people. Checking them. Hurting them.