Chapter 75 The Cost of Control
Kier's POV
The room was cold. Sam sat across from me, wrists cuffed to the table, the metal already leaving red impressions on his skin. A bruise bloomed under his eye where one of my men had introduced him to the floor earlier. He looked smaller than I remembered. More fragile. But the arrogance hadn’t drained from him.
I leaned back in the chair, watching him. “If you want to start talking,” I said. “Now’s the time.”
He smiled, split lip pulling awkwardly. “You always this friendly?”
I didn’t answer. The overhead light buzzed faintly, a soft, irritating hum that matched the pulse ticking in my jaw.
Across the room, Jaxon stood by the wall, arms crossed, his wolf just under the surface. He’d been pacing since we brought Sam in, teeth clenched, waiting for me to start.
I turned back to Sam. “Where is she?”
His smile didn’t waver. “Who?”
The chair screeched as I stood. “You know who.”
He flinched slightly, eyes darting to the camera in the corner, then back to me. “You mean Sable.”
The way he said her name made my hands curl into fists.
“Yes,” I said evenly. “Sable. Where is she?”
He tilted his head. “Why? She doesn't want to be with you. She ran away once.”
Jaxon’s growl cut through the room before I could respond. “Watch your mouth.”
Sam laughed, low and hoarse. “Hit a nerve, huh? You don’t even get it, do you? She’s not some trophy for your pack. She’s—”
“Enough,” I snapped. “You want to keep your tongue, you use it to answer questions, not to run it.”
He smirked. “You don't scare me.”
I moved fast, slamming my hands down on the table. The metal shuddered under the impact. “Try me.”
For a heartbeat, I thought the fear would break through his face. But he held it — barely — hiding behind that same half-sane confidence.
Jaxon pushed off the wall. “Kier—”
“I’ve got it,” I said, without taking my eyes off Sam.
Jaxon didn’t move back. His wolf was starting to show through, shoulders shaking with the effort to not shift and rip Sa to shreds.
Sam saw it, and his grin widened. “Oh,” he said softly. “That’s new. You gonna shift right here, big guy? Tear me apart to make yourself feel better?”
Jaxon’s hand hit the table hard enough to make the cuffs jump. “Where is she?” he said, voice gone rough.
Sam leaned forward, lips curling. “None of your business.”
That was it. Jaxon’s body jerked, bones cracking under his skin as the change rippled through him.
“Out,” I barked.
“Kier—”
“Now.” My voice cut through the air like a blade.
Two of my men were through the door in seconds, hauling Jaxon back before the shift completed. He fought it — claws splitting through his fingertips, his breath ragged.
“Get him out before he loses it,” I ordered.
The door slammed behind them, leaving the air thick and charged. Sam was grinning again, pleased with himself.
“You see?” he said. “That’s what your kind does. Anger first, think later. You’re all the same.”
I straightened slowly, the chair scraping back across the concrete. “You’ve got a mouth on you for a dead man.”
He shrugged as best he could with his wrists cuffed. “Better dead than alive. You'll never find her.”
“You’re either brave,” I said, stepping closer, “or stupid.”
He lifted his chin. “No. I’m just right.”
I stared at him for a long second. The bond between Sable and me was still dead silent. My wolf still gone. The hole it left made everything feel sharper — every breath, every sound, every word this fool said.
“Tell me where she is,” I said quietly.
“I told you,” he replied, “she doesn’t want to be found.”
I slammed my hand into the table so hard the metal dented. “You drugged and kidnapped her. Now tell me where she is.”
His jaw flexed, but his voice stayed calm. “You think she chose you? You think she wanted you? You’re poison, Kier. You and that bond I keep hearing about.”
My breath caught. He was pushing every button, and he knew it.
“I’ve seen the way she looked at you,” he said. “You don’t deserve her.”
That did it. The words hit harder than I expected, cutting through the wall I’d built around myself. I took a slow breath, the air burning in my lungs.
“Deserve has nothing to do with it,” I said, my voice low.
Sam smirked. “Then why are you here? If you really believed that, you’d let her go.”
I reached out, gripping the collar of his shirt, hauling him halfway across the table. “You’re going to tell me where she is,” I said, “or I’ll make you wish you’d never learned her name.”
He spat blood onto the floor. “You can’t do anything to me that’s worse than what you already did to her.”
My control snapped like a wire. I didn’t hit him, not yet — I wanted the fear first. I grabbed the back of his chair and flipped it backward. The metal legs hit the floor, the sound echoing off the walls.
He grunted, the cuffs pulling tight against his wrists.
I crouched beside him, close enough for him to smell the fury rolling off me. “You think you’re the victim here?” I said. “You think you’re some hero saving her from the big bad wolf? You don’t even know what you’ve walked into.”
He glared up at me, face twisted with something that almost looked like conviction. “She chose me to be free from you.”
“She would never choose you,” I snapped.
His smile faltered. Just a flicker. Then came back, weaker this time. “You’ll see. I’m the only one who ever wanted her for her.”
I stood, breathing hard. For a moment, I wanted to rip the words straight out of his throat. But I needed him to tell me where Sable was.
I turned to one of my men at the door. “Bring the tools.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “What—”
“You said you weren’t afraid,” I interrupted. “Let’s test that.”
He started to shake his head. “You can’t—”
“Oh, I can,” I said. “Because unlike you, I'm the real animal here.”
The man returned with a black case and set it on the table. The click of the latch filled the silence.
Sam’s breathing picked up. “You’re not going to find her this way,” he said quickly. “She’s gone. She’s—”
I crouched again, voice almost gentle. “Then pray I find her before I finish with you.”
He went quiet, chest rising and falling fast.
The door shut behind my men, sealing us in.
I stared at him for a long, still moment — long enough to feel the faint tremor under my skin, that whisper of something buried deep trying to wake.
My wolf still wasn’t there. But the anger was.
And that was enough.