Chapter 159: Goddess.......

Twenty minutes is a long time when you’re pretending to die.

Alex lay in his bed and counted his heartbeats.

One.

Two.

Three.

At sixty beats per minute, that was 1,200 beats before Ivan walked through the door.

1,200 chances for the wolf to lose its mind and tear the room apart early.

He didn’t.

He breathed.

Shallow. Wet. Like there was blood in his lungs.

The pig’s blood under the bandages smelled right. Coppery.

Varro sat in the chair beside him, one hand on Alex’s wrist, thumb pressed to his pulse.

"They’re on the ridge," Varro murmured. Low. "Two of them. Binoculars."

"Good," Alex whispered back. "Let them see."

Let them see the Alpha dying.

They should run back to Ivan with the news that Alessandro DeLuca was fading fast. That should make Ivan greedy enough to show up with them and flaunt them before him on the dying bed.

Outside the door, his men were silent.

Not the silence of waiting.

The silence of wolves before the kill.

The whole packhouse was a trap.

And Alex was the bait.

He hated it.

Hated lying there while Mia was out there somewhere.

Hated that Sara was still in that SUV.

But hate was fuel. And he was running on it.

Footsteps on gravel.

Multiple.

Heavy.

Varro squeezed his wrist once.

"Here we go."

The front doors opened.

Alex couldn’t see them from here, but he could hear.

Boots on wood.

Laughter.

Ivan’s laugh.

That same laugh from years ago, after his mother had been arrested by the elders and later fed silver, when Ivan had thought he no longer had anyone to stand beside him, hold him together after his father's death. When he had shown his true colour and made Alex wonder if his uncle was his blood or he was just his uncle by name.

"Where is he?" Ivan called. Too loud. For the benefit of anyone listening. "My poor cousin."

"Upstairs," one of Alex’s men answered. Sounded like Jake. Good kid. "Room at the end. He’s... he’s not good, sir."

"Sir," Ivan repeated, delighted. "I like that."

More footsteps.

Up the stairs.

Slow.

Like they wanted everyone to hear them coming.

Alex closed his eyes.

Focused on his breathing.

In.

Out.

Shallow.

Let the sweat bead on his forehead. Real sweat. From the rage.

The door opened.

He didn’t look.

Not yet.

"Well well well," Ivan said.

His voice filled the room.

"Look at you. The great Alessandro DeLuca. On his back."

Alex let his chest hitch. Like he was trying to breathe and failing.

"Is he... is he conscious?" That was one of Ivan’s men. Teeth. The one from the gas station.

"Shut up," Ivan said. Fond. "Let me have a moment with my nephew."

Footsteps.

Closer.

Alex could smell him now.

Cologne. Gun oil. And Cherry Blood lipstick.

The mistress.

Ivan stopped at the foot of the bed.

"You look like shit," Ivan said. Honest. "I mean, worse than usual. And you always looked like shit."

No answer from Alex.

Just another wet breath.

Ivan sighed. "You know, I didn’t want it to come to this. I really didn’t. You could’ve just stepped down. Gave me the title. I would’ve let you keep the girl. Maybe."

A pause.

"But no. You had to be stubborn. Had to go running around like a dog looking for his bone."

Alex’s hands, under the sheets, curled into fists.

The bandages itched.

"Where’s Mia?" Varro asked. His voice shook. Good. "Did you bring her?"

"Of course I brought her," Ivan said. "I’m not a monster, Varro. I’m a businessman."

Another set of footsteps.

Lighter.

Hesitant.

Alex’s heart stopped.

Then started again, too fast.

"Mia," Varro whispered.

Alex opened his eyes.

Mia stood in the doorway.

Held by two of Ivan’s men. One on each arm.

She looked small. Smaller than he’d ever seen her.

Hair in a messy bun. Same clothes from this morning.

Lip split. Bruise on her cheek.

But her eyes….

Her eyes found him.

And for half a second, she looked relieved.

Then she saw the bandages. The blood.

And her face crumpled.

"Alex?" she whispered.

The word hit him like a bullet.

He didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

If he moved now, the whole thing fell apart.

"She’s fine," Ivan said. "Mostly. Cried a lot. Annoying. But fine."

He walked to Mia. Put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

Alex saw it.

The wolf saw it.

"Now," Ivan said, turning back to the bed. "Let’s talk."

Alex let another minute pass.

Let Ivan get comfortable.

Let him think he’d won.

Then Alex coughed.

Wet. Ugly.

And opened his eyes all the way.

Gold.

Full gold.

Ivan froze.

"Hello, uncle," Alex said. His voice was clear. No weakness. "You’re early. I thought you said twenty minutes."

The room went still.

"What—" Teeth started.

"Shut up," Alex said. Without looking at him.

He sat up.

Slow.

The bandages fell away.

The wounds underneath were pink. Closing.

No silver.

No dying.

Ivan’s face did something complicated.

"That’s not….. you were…"

"I was lying," Alex said. Simple.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Naked. Except for the bandages. Didn’t care.

Stood up.

Ivan’s men reached for their guns.

"Don’t," Alex said. Quiet.

They stopped.

He walked around the bed.

Past Varro.

Past Mia.

Stopped three feet in front of Ivan.

Close enough to smell the cologne.

Close enough to see the sweat on Ivan’s upper lip.

"You brought her," Alex said.

"I— yeah. I thought—"

"You thought I’d be dead."

Alex tilted his head. "I’m not."

He looked past Ivan. To Mia.

Her eyes were wide. Tears on her cheeks.

"You okay, baby?" he asked her.

Mia nodded. Once.

"They didn’t hurt Sara," she said. Fast. "They put her in a different car. I don’t know where—"

"Hey," Alex cut her off. Gentle. "It’s okay. I got you."

Then he looked at Ivan.

"You made a mistake," Alex said.

Ivan laughed. Nervous. "Did I? Because from where I’m standing—"

"You brought her into my house," Alex interrupted. "Into my trap."

He gestured. Lazily. "Look around."

The closet door opened.

Two men out.

The bed shifted.

Two more.

The door behind Ivan opened.

Four more.

Ivan’s men were suddenly outnumbered 4 to 1.

Teeth reached for his gun.

Alex moved.

He didn’t punch.

He grabbed.

One hand around Teeth’s throat.

Lifted him off the ground.

Squeezed.

Teeth’s gun clattered to the floor.

"Don’t touch my daughter," Alex said. Soft.

He dropped Teeth.

The man hit the ground and didn’t get up.

Ivan took a step back. "Okay. Okay. Let’s talk about this."

"Talk," Alex agreed.

He moved so he was between Ivan and Mia.

"Where’s Sara."

"I don’t—"

Alex hit him.

Not with a fist.

With the back of his hand.

Across the face.

The crack echoed.

Ivan stumbled. Caught himself on the bed.

"That’s for Marco," Alex said.

Another hit.

"That’s for lying to the Council."

Another.

"That’s for touching my wife."

Ivan hit the floor.

Blood on his mouth.

"Now," Alex said. "Where. Is. My. Daughter."

Ivan spat blood. Grinned.

"You’ll never find her."

The room went cold.

Alex crouched.

Put his face level with Ivan’s.

"Try me."

For ten seconds, no one moved.

Mia was crying now. Quiet.

Varro had his hand on her shoulder.

Ivan looked up at Alex.

And smiled.

"You think you won," Ivan said. "You think because you got her back, it’s over."

He laughed.

"She’s in pieces, Alex. Sara. Split up. Different cars. Different states. You’ll spend the next ten years looking and you’ll never—"

Alex grabbed him by the collar.

Dragged him up.

Slammed him into the wall.

The plaster cracked.

"Where," Alex said.

"I’m not telling you," Ivan wheezed. "Kill me. I don’t care."

Alex let him go.

Ivan slid down the wall.

Alex turned away.

Walked to Mia.

She threw herself at him.

He caught her.

Held her.

Buried his face in her hair.

She smelled like fear and shampoo and home.

"I got you," he whispered. "I got you."

Over her shoulder, he looked at Varro.

Varro understood.

"New plan," Alex said. He didn’t let go of Mia. "We move."

Varro nodded. "Where?"

"Somewhere he can’t touch us."

Alex looked at Ivan on the floor.

"And we start looking for Sara. Now."

He picked Mia up.

She was too old to be carried like this, but he did it anyway.

Walked to the door.

Paused.

Looked back at Ivan.

"You wanted to see me on my knees," Alex said. "Here’s what you get instead."

He turned and walked out.

His men followed.

Leaving Ivan and his guys on the floor.

In the hall, Mia whispered in his ear.

"They said if you came for me, they’d hurt Sara."

Alex kept walking.

"They lied."

"How do you know?"

"Because I’m not done yet."

He took the stairs two at a time.

Down.

Out the front door.

Into the sun.

The wolves on the ridge were running now.

Going to tell Ivan that the trap had failed.

Alex put Mia down.

Kissed her forehead.

"Go with Varro. Stay inside the car."

Then he turned.

Looked east.

Toward the highway.

Toward where they’d taken Sara.

The wolf was done waiting.

"Goddess," Alex said under his breath. "Watch me."