Chapter 186: The Monster Unleashed

Kaelen's POV

I exploded through the burning corridor, fire licking at the walls as smoke clawed at my throat, but none of it mattered because the bond was screaming—fucking screaming—pulling me forward with the force of a primal command I couldn't ignore even if I wanted to.

My boots pounded against stone slick with blood and ash, half-wolf form still rippling beneath my skin, golden eyes cutting through the haze as I burst through the rear doorway into the night air.

And then I saw them.

Damien's silhouette against the burning backdrop of Ravencrest, one hand wrapped around a rusted iron chain, the other yanking it forward with brutal force.

The chain led to Seraphine's silver collar, dragging her behind him like discarded prey, her body jerking with each violent pull. Blood soaked through her torn clothes, silver burns carving angry red lines across her exposed skin where that cursed collar sat embedded in her throat, eating into flesh that should have healed instantly but couldn't.

She stumbled, fell to her knees on the gravel, and Damien didn't slow, just kept pulling until she was forced to crawl forward or let the chain choke her completely.

Something inside me shattered.

A roar tore from my chest before I could stop it, the sound pure rage and anguish combined, a noise that belonged to the beast and not the man. My vision tunneled, golden irises bleeding into crimson as my body surged forward, bones cracking, muscles tearing and reforming as I dropped fully into half-wolf state. Claws burst from my fingertips, white fur sprouted across my forearms and shoulders, and my jaw elongated just enough to bare fangs designed to rip throats open.

I dug those claws into the dirt and launched myself forward, covering the distance between us in seconds, every fiber of my being screaming one word: kill.

Then the bond flared, sharp and desperate, and her voice slammed into my mind like a physical blow. We were close now—so close that even the silver collar couldn't completely smother the soul-deep call between mates. The distance had narrowed enough for her desperation to punch through the metal's suppression.

Don't.

I skidded to a halt, gravel spraying beneath my feet, chest heaving as I fought against every instinct demanding I tear Damien apart limb by fucking limb. My entire body trembled with the effort of holding still, claws digging furrows into the earth as I locked my gaze on her.

She was on her hands and knees, head bowed, blood dripping from her mouth onto the stones. The silver collar glowed faintly in the firelight, and even from here I could see how deeply it had burned, the skin around it blackened and weeping. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and what I saw there almost broke me—pain, yes, but also fear. Not of Damien.

Of what I would do.

Don't come closer, she repeated through the bond, the words barely coherent through her agony. Please.

Behind me, footsteps thundered as Lucian burst through the doorway with Jason and Derek on his heels. To my left, Cordelia emerged from the side passage, her healer's satchel bouncing against her hip as she moved.

The moment she caught sight of her friend chained and bleeding in the dirt, she froze mid-step, amber eyes going wide with horror, hands curling into helpless fists at her sides.

And from the eastern wall came movement—Silverwood warriors pouring through the breach, an older wolf leading them with grim determination carved into every line of his weathered face.

Lucian appeared at my side. "That's Roland," he said quietly, voice tight. "Matthias's Gamma. Just as you knew, they're here for revenge."

We had Damien surrounded. Three sides blocked, the burning manor at his back, nowhere to run.

Damien stopped dragging Seraphine and turned slowly, a smile spreading across his blood-splattered face as he surveyed the circle of enemies closing in. He looked almost delighted, like this was exactly what he'd wanted all along.

"Well, well," he drawled, voice carrying easily over the crackle of flames. "Quite the welcome party."

I forced myself to straighten, pushing back the beast enough to speak, though my voice came out guttural and inhuman. "Let her go."

"Let her go?" Damien laughed, the sound high and manic. He yanked the chain again, and Seraphine collapsed forward with a choked gasp that sent white-hot agony spiking through our bond and into my chest. "Why would I do that when she's the only reason you haven't ripped me apart yet?"

Roland stepped forward from the left flank, his weathered face twisted with barely controlled fury. When the other Silverwood warriors caught sight of Seraphine properly—saw the blood, the collar, the chains—they dropped as one to a single knee, heads bowed in the traditional warrior's salute.

"Princess Seraphine," Roland said, his voice cracking on her title. "We've come for you."

Seraphine's head jerked up, eyes widening as she took in her father's former soldiers kneeling in the gravel. Tears cut clean tracks through the grime on her face, and I felt her emotion through the bond—gratitude, shame, grief all tangled together into something that tasted like broken glass.

But beneath it all was something else, something raw and aching: humiliation. She didn't want them to see her like this. Didn't want me to see her like this—chained, bleeding, crawling in the dirt like an animal.

Cordelia stood frozen beside Lucian, one hand pressed against her mouth, amber eyes wide with horror. Her face had gone pale, and I could see her whole body trembling as she stared at Seraphine—her friend, reduced to this.

A strangled sound escaped her throat, somewhere between a sob and a curse, and her hands clenched into fists so tight her nails drew blood from her palms.

Damien's smile widened. "Princess?" He looked down at Seraphine, then back at the kneeling warriors. "You mean this blood-soaked, chain-dragging piece of—"

"Finish that sentence," I snarled, taking a step forward before I could stop myself, "and I'll finish you."

Damien's boot came down hard on Seraphine's back, pinning her flat against the ground. She cried out, a short, sharp sound of pain that echoed in my skull and sent fresh fire racing through my veins. I could feel the pressure on her spine through our bond, feel the way her ribs compressed beneath his weight.

"Stay where you are, you four-eyed monster," Damien said pleasantly. "Or I'll see just how much damage I can do before you reach me."

Lucian moved up beside me, half-shifted as well, silver eyes locked on Damien with predatory focus. "You're surrounded," he said coldly. "Ravencrest is burning. Your father is dead. There's no way out."

"Dead?" For just a moment, something flickered across Damien's expression—surprise, maybe, or anger—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same manic grin. "Well, well. Someone's been busy." His gaze fixed on me. "Was it quick, or did you make the old bastard suffer?"

"He suffered," I said flatly.

"Good." Damien laughed again, a sound completely devoid of sanity. "He always was a cowardly piece of shit." He ground his boot harder into Seraphine's back, and she whimpered despite clearly trying to hold it in. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm the one holding all the cards here."

His hand tightened around the chain, wrapping it once more around his fist before giving it a vicious twist. The collar rotated with the force, silver edges digging deeper into Seraphine's ravaged throat. Her entire body went rigid, a strangled scream tearing from her as the metal bit into burned flesh.

"Don't," I said, the word barely recognizable. "Damien, don't—"

He twisted.