Chapter 77 Blood and Silver
Kier's POV
The night was too quiet when we reached the warehouse.
Even the rain had stopped, like the city itself was holding its breath.
I stepped out of the SUV first, boots crunching against gravel slick with river mist. The air was cold. My men fanned out on instinct, weapons drawn, eyes sharp. Jaxon moved beside me, jaw tight, his wolf humming just beneath the surface.
The keycard Jenna found had led us here—an abandoned freight warehouse tucked between the industrial loop and the river.
Jaxon sniffed the air and went still. “You smell that?”
I took a breath. The wind carried faint traces—rust, oil, something acrid and bitter. And under it, buried deep, the scent that stopped my pulse.
Sable.
My wolf stirred faintly in the hollow space where he’d been hiding. The spark was weak, fragile, but it was there.
“She was here,” I said, voice low.
Jaxon nodded, scanning the perimeter. “Not long ago. Maybe a day, two tops.”
We pushed through the main door. It creaked open, echoing through the dark. Inside, the air was heavier, tinged with smoke and the tang of something foul—rogues.
My men spread out, flashlights cutting thin beams across the dust.
“Rogues,” Jaxon muttered. “A lot of them.”
I crouched beside a cracked concrete pillar. The scent was stronger here—Sable’s, mixed with blood, sweat, and pain. My gaze caught on something gleaming near the corner.
Silver.
I picked it up carefully. A length of chain, still slick with faint traces of blood.
Jaxon’s expression darkened. “He chained her.”
My grip tightened until the metal bit into my palm. “And he’s running with rogues now.”
“That explains how he’s stayed ahead of us,” Jaxon said. “They know these back routes better than anyone.”
I rose, turning toward the open dock doors. “Her scent trails north. Toward the woods.”
Jaxon frowned. “He’s not stupid enough to go that way. That’s rogue territory.”
“Exactly,” I said. “He thinks I won’t follow.”
He gave me a sharp look. “You planning on proving him wrong?”
“I’m planning on ending this,” I said. “Tonight.”
He sighed but didn’t argue. “You heard him,” he told the team. “Double formation. Weapons ready.”
We left the warehouse behind, the air thick with the ghosts of what had happened there.
The forest swallowed us whole.
Branches clawed at the SUV as we pushed down the narrow dirt path that wound through the northern woods. The deeper we went, the darker it became. Even the moonlight had trouble breaking through the canopy.
Every few yards, Jaxon rolled down the window, sniffing the air again. “Still got her,” he murmured. “She’s weak, but it’s there.”
The faint pull of her scent hit me, too—like the edge of a memory, sweet and sharp all at once.
My wolf growled inside me, still distant but louder now. Find her.
“I know,” I muttered.
We stopped near a clearing. The trees here were thicker, ancient, their roots tangled across the forest floor. The scent of rogues was overwhelming now—wet fur, dirt, blood, and decay.
Jaxon stepped out, gun drawn. “We’re close.”
I nodded to the men. “Fan out. Quietly.”
We followed the scent deeper into the woods until we found it—the mouth of a cave half-hidden by vines and moss. The air pouring from it was cold and thick with rogue stench and something else—fear.
Jaxon sniffed the air again. “This is it.”
I crouched at the entrance, tracing a line of scuffed dirt and paw prints leading inside. “They dragged something heavy through here,” I said. “Sable.”
The thought made my chest tighten.
Jaxon motioned for the others to form up behind us. “We go in slow.”
We slipped into the cave, the dark pressing close, the air damp and choking. Water dripped somewhere ahead, echoing in hollow rhythm. The deeper we went, the stronger the scent of rogues became.
Then came another smell.
Smoke.
Jaxon stopped, sniffing again. “They were just here.”
I raised my hand, signaling for silence. My wolf’s unease rippled through me—a tremor under the skin, an instinct that screamed trap.
Too quiet. Too still.
“Back out,” I whispered.
But before we could turn, the sound hit—footsteps, soft and fast, circling us in the dark.
Then came the growls.
Low, guttural, coming from every direction at once.
“Positions!” Jaxon barked.
Dozens of eyes flashed at us from the shadows—rogues, feral and snarling, fangs bared.
“Ambush!”
They hit fast.
The first one lunged for me, teeth snapping. I twisted, driving my elbow into its ribs, then slammed its head into the cave wall. Another came from behind, claws raking across my shoulder. I caught its wrist, spun, and broke its arm clean before tossing it aside.
There were too many of them.
Jaxon shifted mid-fight, his wolf tearing free in a burst of fur and fury. His roar shook the cave walls as he took down two rogues in one swing.
I stayed in human form, my movements sharper, more deliberate, fueled by precision instead of instinct. Without my wolf, I had to fight smarter, harder.
A rogue lunged from the left. I caught its jaw mid-snap and drove my knife through its throat. Another grabbed me from behind—I slammed it backward into the wall, feeling its spine crack.
“Push forward!” I yelled.
Jaxon roared in agreement, tearing through two more.
But for every one we dropped, two more came out of the dark.
“Fall back to the entrance!” Jaxon mind linked. “Now!”
We moved as a unit, fighting step by step until the faint light of the forest appeared ahead.
When we finally broke through the mouth of the cave, I spun around, chest heaving, knife slick with blood. The rogues didn’t follow. They just stopped—standing in the shadows, eyes gleaming, watching us.
Then, from deeper inside the cave, a voice called out.
Feminine. Cold. Familiar.
“Alpha Blane.”
Rhea.
I froze.
“You’ve been busy,” she said, stepping into view, her dark hair damp with rain, eyes catching the moonlight like glass.
Jaxon snarled. “You set us up.”
She smiled faintly. “I gave you a trail. What you did with it isn’t my fault.”
“You led us into an ambush,” I said. “Why?”
“To see how far you’d go,” she said. “To see if you’d bleed for her.”
I stepped forward, fury boiling under my skin. “You’re going to tell me where she is.”
Her smile widened. “Maybe. But first—you and I have unfinished business.”
Behind her, the rogues began to close in again, circling the entrance like wolves around a wounded deer.
The wind shifted, carrying her scent—violets and smoke. And underneath it…
Sable’s.
Faint. Barely there. But real.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
She's here.
I took a step forward, knife still in hand. “Then let’s finish it.”
Rhea’s grin turned predatory. “Gladly.”