Chapter 189
Blake
I pulled out the cash Asher had given me. Ten thousand dollars. Threw it at his chest. "Is that how it works now?"
He caught the bills reflexively, eyes widening. Through our bond, I felt Asher's reluctant approval—insane, reckless, exactly what I'd promised not to do. But also our best chance to get Viktor alone, to interrogate him without raising alarms.
The announcer looked at the money. At me. At the crowd now chanting "LET HIM FIGHT! LET HIM FIGHT!"
"You'll need to sign a waiver," he finally said. "House isn't responsible for injuries or death. Once you're in, you fight until one can't continue."
"Fine." I didn't look away from Viktor. "Open the fucking cage."
Through our bond, Asher's command: Get him talking. Find out where she is. Then extract together.
Cole's addition: Don't kill him until we have answers.
My wolf's savage promise: I'll leave him breathing. Barely.
The cage door opened. I stepped inside, and it slammed shut behind me with finality. Viktor and I faced each other across bloodstained concrete, his collar pulsing that sickly light while his silver eyes held intelligence the magic couldn't fully suppress. All over him—faint but unmistakable—was Kara's scent.
I took a step forward, letting my pheromones flood the cage. Gunpowder and leather, thick enough to choke on. Viktor's eyes widened, his wolf recognizing the dominance, the rage, the promise of violence.
"Where is she?" My voice carried across the sudden silence. "Where the fuck is my mate?"
Viktor's mouth opened. Then closed. His eyes flickered to the cameras mounted in the corners, to the guards watching with electric prods ready.
"Fight first," he said quietly, his voice rough. "Talk after. They're watching."
My wolf snarled, demanding answers now. But through our bond, I felt Asher's agreement—Viktor was right. We had to play this smart.
"Then let's make it convincing," I said.
Viktor's eyes met mine, and I saw understanding there. Gratitude, even.
Then he lunged.
---
We collided in the center with enough force to crack concrete. The crowd screamed. Viktor was good—trained, experienced, efficient despite the collar's influence. But I was an Alpha in my prime, fueled by seventy-two hours of rage and fear and desperation.
I caught his throat in my jaws, not breaking skin but applying pressure. He twisted, claws raking my ribs. Pain flared bright. The crowd loved it.
"Six hours," Viktor gasped as we grappled. "She was here six hours ago."
My grip tightened. "Where is she now?"
"Transferred. I don't know where." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
I slammed Viktor against the cage wall, making it rattle. The crowd roared approval. "What did they do to her?"
"Nothing." He coughed, blood flecking his muzzle. "Not yet. They're waiting for—" He cut off, eyes going wide with fear as he glanced at the cameras again.
"For what?" I shook him. "Waiting for what?"
But Viktor's collar flared brighter, and his eyes rolled back. The blood magic was taking over, forcing him into autopilot. I had seconds before he became another mindless fighter.
"Boss," he managed to gasp out. "The Boss wants her. For the project. For—" His voice cut off with a choked sound as the collar pulsed.
I released him, let him drop. The crowd thought I was toying with him, building suspense. Through our bond, Asher was already signaling—time to go.
But Viktor grabbed my ankle as I turned away. His eyes were clearing, the collar's influence momentarily weakening. "Your mate," he whispered, voice barely audible over the crowd. "She's strong. Stronger than they expected. She fought them. Drew blood."
Pride surged through me, fierce and hot. That's my girl.
"Where?" I demanded one last time.
Viktor's eyes met mine, and I saw the truth there—the guilt, the self-loathing, the desperate need for redemption. "I'll help you," he said. "Get me out of here, and I'll tell you everything. About the Boss. About the project. About what they really did to her parents."
Her parents. Connor and Celeste.
Through our bond, I felt Cole's sharp intake of breath. Asher's cold rage crystallizing into something sharper, more focused.
"Deal," I said.
Then I punched Viktor in the solar plexus hard enough to make it look good, and he went down with a theatrical gasp. The crowd erupted. The announcer started shouting about my victory.
And Asher's voice came through our bond, calm and deadly: Cole and I are moving into position. Dmitri's creating a distraction at the main entrance. On my signal, you grab Viktor and head for the east exit.
I raised my arms in victory, playing to the crowd while my wolf screamed to find Kara now. But Asher was right. We had to be smart. Had to get Viktor somewhere we could interrogate him properly.
Had to find out what Court had done to the parents of my pregnant, kidnapped mate.
The cage door opened. Guards moved in to drag Viktor away, but I snarled at them, letting my Alpha dominance flare. "He's mine. I won him."
The announcer started to protest, but I pulled out another stack of cash. "For his contract. Name your price."
Greed won. It always did.
Five minutes later, I was hauling Viktor's semi-conscious body through the east corridor, Asher and Cole flanking us, Dmitri's "Silver Fang" reputation scattering anyone who thought to interfere.
We made it to the vehicles. Threw Viktor in the back seat. I started the engine.
And through our bond, all three of us felt it—the cold, focused rage that came from knowing we were one step closer to Kara.
One step closer to the truth about what Court had done to her family.
One step closer to burning this entire organization to the ground.