Chapter 206
Drake's POV
The leather straps bit into my wrists like teeth. My ankles were bound so tight to the chair legs that my feet had gone numb twenty minutes ago. The dungeon—because let's be real, that's what this shit was—smelled like mold, blood, and my own fear-sweat.
This was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.
I mean, yeah, okay, so I spiked some champagne. And maybe I pissed off Casper. Big fucking deal. It wasn't like I'd actually killed anyone. But here I was, trussed up like a goddamn turkey while Alpha Austin prowled the room like a caged animal, and Jessica—poor, stupid Jessica—sat in the chair across from me, looking like she'd already made peace with death.
You did more than spike champagne, you pathetic waste of space.
Ragnar's voice sliced through my skull like a hacksaw. My wolf. My supposed partner. The bastard who was supposed to have my back.
Fuck off, I shot back mentally. I didn't ask for your commentary.
You never ask for anything useful, Ragnar snarled. The Alpha nearly died. Leo tore apart the great hall. You helped release a fucking demon into this world. But sure, Drake. You just "spiked some champagne."
My stomach twisted. Leo. That red-eyed monster that had erupted from Casper like something out of a nightmare. The destruction. The screaming. Elowen's terrified face as she'd tried to reach her mate while he—
No. That wasn't on me. That was all Casper's lack of control.
Keep telling yourself that, Ragnar growled. Maybe if you repeat the lie enough times, you'll actually believe it.
"Ragnar," I whispered under my breath. "Help me get out of these restraints. We can—"
We? The contempt in his voice made me flinch. There is no 'we' right now, Drake. You made your choices. You aligned yourself with traitors and demons. You think I'm going to help you defy an Alpha? My Alpha?
"You're my wolf," I hissed. "You're supposed to—"
I'm supposed to guide you toward honor, strength, and pack loyalty. You've shown none of those things. Ragnar's presence retreated to the back of my mind, cold and distant. You want help? Go beg your demon friend. I'm sure Raven would be thrilled to assist.
The words hit like a slap. My own wolf. Abandoning me.
Before I could process that particular betrayal, Austin's voice exploded through the room.
"WHY?" He roared at Jessica, his face inches from hers. "Why did you fucking betray me?"
Jessica's head lolled to the side. Blood dripped from her split lip, her left eye already swelling shut. But her mouth stayed closed.
"When did it start?" Austin's hands gripped the arms of her chair, his knuckles white. "Was it always the plan? To kill me? DID YOU KNOW?"
Silence.
"ANSWER ME!" His fist connected with her jaw. The crack echoed off the stone walls.
I winced. Even for a Beta, Jessica was taking one hell of a beating. But what caught my attention wasn't the violence—it was how Austin was pulling his punches. Oh, he was hitting her, sure. Making it look good. But I'd seen Alpha Austin truly lose his shit before, back when a rogue pack had tried to kidnap Cindy. He'd literally torn a wolf's head off with his bare hands.
This? This was restraint dressed up as rage.
He didn't want to hurt her. Not really.
From his position lounging on the dungeon's ratty sofa, Alaric caught my eye. The bastard smirked. He knew I'd noticed. And from the way Kade stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching everything with those calculating eyes—they both knew. They knew everything Jessica had spilled yesterday.
Including my part in all this.
So why aren't they telling Austin? I wondered.
Because you have me, Ragnar answered, his tone matter-of-fact. You're a threat. Better to keep their cards close until they understand the playing field.
Then help me, I pleaded. We could break these restraints. I could—
You could what? Fight your way past three Alphas? Don't be more of an idiot than you already are.
But I'm your human. Your responsibility. You're supposed to—
Stand on your own two feet for once in your miserable life, Ragnar snapped. Stop expecting me to carry you. Stop expecting anyone to carry you. You want respect? Earn it. You want power? Take it. But don't you dare whine about how everyone treats you like shit when you've spent years proving that's exactly what you are.
The words stung worse than any physical blow. I slumped in my chair, the leather straps creaking.
They all look at me like I'm nothing, I thought bitterly. Like I'm dirt under their feet.
And throwing a tantrum about it will only prove them right, Ragnar said coldly. Now shut up and be a man for once.
I ground my teeth and glared at Kade, letting some of my frustration show on my face. Fuck him and his smug—
Kade's eyes narrowed. He pushed off from the wall and stalked toward me, each step deliberate. When he leaned down, his breath was hot against my ear.
"Make that face at me again," he whispered, "and I'll cut out your tongue and feed it to you. Understand?"
I tried to swallow, but my throat had gone dry. I managed a tiny nod.
Satisfied, Kade straightened and returned to his position. But the message was clear: I was on borrowed time.
Meanwhile, Austin had moved from questions to pure violence. His fists rained down on Jessica—face, ribs, shoulders. Each impact made a wet, sickening sound. Blood splattered on the concrete floor. Her face had transformed into something barely recognizable, a mass of swelling and torn flesh that didn't look human anymore.
"This is pointless," Alaric called out from the sofa, sounding almost bored. "Austin, she's not going to talk."
But Austin didn't stop. Couldn't stop. His breathing came in ragged gasps, his white shirt now speckled with Jessica's blood. The wildness in his eyes—it wasn't just rage. It was grief. Betrayal. The raw pain of a man who'd trusted someone and been stabbed in the back.
"AUSTIN!" Kade finally moved, grabbing one of the Alpha's arms. "Enough!"
Alaric joined him, seizing Austin's other arm. Together, they hauled him back from Jessica's broken form.
"Jesus Christ," Alaric muttered, genuine concern breaking through his usual sarcasm. "Did someone feed you Weetabix this morning? Where'd all this energy come from?"
Austin struggled in their grip, chest heaving. His eyes—God, his eyes. They were wet. The big, bad Alpha was on the verge of tears.
"Let me go," he growled.
"Not until you calm down," Kade said firmly. Then, softer: "You won't really hurt her, Austin. You don't have it in you. She knows that. We all know that."
The fight drained out of Austin like water from a broken dam. His shoulders slumped.
"She's like family to you," Kade continued. "I get it. Sometimes I want to kill Ronan—" Alaric snorted at that, "—but I can't. The bond's too strong. Even with chosen family."
Austin nodded slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. "Fine. Fine. But I want answers. Whatever it takes, get them out of her."
He looked at Jessica one last time. Despite everything—the blood, the betrayal, the broken trust—something in his expression softened. Just for a second. Then he wrenched free from Alaric and Kade and stormed toward the door.
Ronan materialized in the doorway at exactly the wrong moment.
"Whoa!" He pressed himself against the frame as Austin barreled past. "Who pissed in your protein shake?"
"I WANT MY FUCKING ANSWERS!" Austin's roar echoed down the corridor, followed by the crash of a door being thrown open hard enough to crack the frame.
Ronan stepped into the room, adjusting his leather jacket. "Well. Glad to see I'm not the only one having a shit day."
He surveyed the scene—Jessica's brutalized face, my bound form, Alaric and Kade standing in the aftermath of chaos. His expression shifted from casual to grim.
"Speaking of shit days," Ronan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've got bad news."