Chapter 23
Nora's POV
The hallway reeked of rot and rust. I stayed close to Julian, my hand hovering near the body cam clipped to my jacket. The device felt heavier than usual, a small piece of metal that somehow represented the only barrier between civility and violence in places like this.
Julian moved with the silent precision of a predator. I found myself unconsciously matching his rhythm, placing my boots exactly where his had been. Ahead of us, the corridor stretched into darkness, broken only by weak shafts of daylight filtering through gaps in the boarded windows.
"Blood," Julian said quietly, his nostrils flaring. "Fresh. And fear."
I couldn't smell it—human noses weren't designed to detect pheromones or the metallic tang of blood beneath layers of bleach. But the air did taste wrong, sharp and chemical, like someone had dumped an entire bottle of disinfectant down here and hoped it would cover up something worse.
"Behind me," he said, his voice low and absolute. "Keep the cam running."
I pressed the record button. The tiny red light blinked on.
We reached a narrow staircase leading down. The steps were concrete, chipped and stained, descending into a basement that shouldn't exist in a building this old. Julian took the first step, testing its weight before gesturing for me to follow.
As we descended, the temperature dropped. My breath misted in the cold air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around myself. At the bottom, a metal door stood ajar, a sliver of sickly yellow light spilling through the gap.
Julian pushed it open.
The room beyond was a nightmare dressed up as logistics.
The room had been converted into makeshift cells, the walls reinforced with steel bars. Inside, people sat chained to the walls—men, women, a few teenagers. Their clothes were filthy, their eyes hollow. Some stared at us with desperate hope. Others didn't react at all, too broken to believe rescue was possible.
I felt my stomach turn. My hand tightened on the body cam.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
Julian's jaw clenched. He scanned the room with sharp, calculating eyes, taking in every detail. A metal table in the corner held syringes, vials of clear liquid, and a stack of laminated tags. I forced myself to step closer, ignoring the bile rising in my throat.
The files were methodical. Each person had a number, a blood type, a health assessment. At the bottom of each sheet was a price.
"Border auction supply chain," Julian said, his voice colder than I'd ever heard it. "They're trafficking people to Lycan black markets in the south. Experimental subjects. Blood servants."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear the whole building down with my bare hands. Instead, I pulled out my phone and started photographing the documents, my hands shaking so badly I had to brace the device against the table.
That's when the door on the far side of the basement slammed open.
Three men walked in, dragging an unconscious girl between them. She couldn't have been more than twenty, her head lolling forward, dark hair obscuring her face. The man in front wore a leather jacket, his amber eyes glinting with excitement.
Derek Sullivan. Howard's son.
He froze when he saw us. For a split second, his expression was pure confusion. Then recognition hit, and his face went pale.
"Well, shit," he said, forcing a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Didn't expect visitors."
"Why are you doing this?" I demanded.
Derek's grin widened into something feral. He was about to speak, but his nostrils flared first, and I saw the moment he caught Julian's scent. His expression cracked.
"Oh, fuck," one of the other men muttered.
"Do it!" Derek snarled at them.
The transformation was horrifying.
Bones cracked and reformed with wet, grinding sounds. Muscle mass surged beneath skin that split and sprouted coarse fur. Their faces elongated into muzzles, teeth sharpening into fangs. Within seconds, three half-human, half-wolf monstrosities stood where men had been, their claws scraping against the concrete floor.
Julian shoved me into the corner. "Stay back, Nora."
I retreated to the wall.
Julian began to change too.
His body seemed to explode outward. Clothes tore as his frame expanded, bones reshaping with brutal efficiency. Silver-gray fur rippled across his skin like liquid metal, and when he dropped to all fours, he was no longer human.
He was a wolf. But not like the others.
Julian stood nearly two meters at the shoulder, his coat shimmering in the dim light. His eyes—those silver-gray eyes I'd come to recognize—remained sharp and focused, but now they held the cold promise of violence. He was massive, every muscle coiled and ready, his presence filling the room like a physical force.
This was a pureblooded Alpha in full form. And he was terrifying.
Derek's men hesitated, whining low in their throats. But Derek screamed at them, his voice warped by his half-transformed jaw. "He's just one! Take him down!"
The black wolf lunged first.
Julian moved like lightning. He caught the wolf mid-leap, his jaws clamping down on its throat. With a vicious twist, he slammed it into the wall. The impact left a crater in the concrete, and the black wolf crumpled, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Not dead, but out of the fight.
The brown wolf tried to circle behind him. Julian spun, his hind legs driving forward with explosive power. His claws raked across the brown wolf's skull, sending it flying into the metal table. Syringes and files scattered across the floor as the wolf collapsed, unconscious.
Derek bolted for the door.
Julian didn't let him get close. He launched himself forward, a blur of silver fur and raw power. His massive paw slammed into Derek's back, pinning him to the ground. Derek screamed, trying to shift fully, but Julian's fangs closed around his throat, pressing just hard enough to draw blood.
Derek went still. His body trembled, and his amber eyes rolled back in terror. Slowly, instinctively, he exposed his neck.
Submission.
I stood against the wall, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst. I'd seen Lycans before—half-shifted forms in training videos, incident reports, case files. But this was different. This was raw, primal, and absolutely lethal.
And yet, when Julian's silver eyes met mine across the room, I didn't feel afraid.
I felt something else entirely.
A memory flickered at the edge of my mind. Fragmented and blurred, like a dream I couldn't quite grasp.
Silver-gray fur.
Warm breath in the snow.
A pair of gentle, luminous eyes watching me.
My chest tightened. I felt like I'd seen this wolf before. Not today. Not recently.
A long time ago.
"Nora?"
Julian's voice pulled me back. He was human again, crouched on the floor, completely naked. His body was sculpted and defined, every line marked by muscle and scars. I felt heat flood my face and quickly looked away.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice embarrassingly hoarse. "Just... first time seeing full form. It's a lot." I paused. "And, um, your clothes."
He glanced down at himself, utterly unbothered. "There's a spare set in the car. Can you grab it for me? I need to keep these three under control."
"Right. Yeah. I'll—yeah." I stumbled toward the stairs, my legs unsteady.
Outside, the cold air hit my face like a slap. I leaned against the SUV for a moment, trying to steady my breathing.
Was it him?
I shook my head and grabbed the duffel bag from the back seat, forcing myself to focus. There would be time to figure it out later.