Chapter 101 The Last Bullet
[Nyx]
Lysander led me to the tactical tent where the maps were spread out. The rescued humans had been thorough—every corridor, every room, every guard rotation marked in detail.
"Three-pronged approach," Lysander explained, pointing to different entry points. "Main assault team hits the lab building here. Seth's team cuts communications and power here. Marcus leads the hostage extraction here."
"I'm going with you to the lab," I said.
He looked at me steadily. "I figured you'd say that."
"I need to face Patrick Raven myself, Lysander." My voice didn't waver. "He killed my mother. This ends with me."
"I know." He squeezed my hand. "That's why I'm not arguing."
---
Seven AM. Dawn broke over the northern territories as we moved into position.
Twelve Gamma warriors plus me, split into three teams. Lysander and I led the main assault on the laboratory building. Seth's team handled technical infrastructure. Marcus coordinated hostage rescue.
The morning fog provided perfect cover. We moved silently through it, ghost-like, taking out exterior sentries with precision. Not a single alarm raised.
Too easy. The thought whispered through my mind as we breached the main building.
Too quiet.
We cleared the first floor without incident. Second floor, same. By the time we reached the third floor where Patrick's laboratory was located, my instincts were screaming.
The moment we entered the lab corridor, every light blazed to life.
"Welcome, Miss Verdant." Patrick Raven's voice echoed through speakers overhead. "I've been expecting you."
Screens flickered on, showing his face—middle-aged, bespectacled, eyes gleaming with manic intelligence.
"Raymond told you everything, didn't he?" Patrick's laugh was sharp. "Predictable. Always was weak under pressure."
Dark doors slid open around us. Twenty armed mercenaries poured into the corridor, weapons trained on us. Silver bullets. Heat weapons designed to take down wolves.
"Did you really think I'd be unprepared?" Patrick's smile was poison-sweet. "I've been watching you circle closer for days. This is my laboratory. My domain. And you've walked right into my trap."
Lysander's hand shot out, pushing me behind him as the first shots rang out.
---
The firefight was brutal and immediate.
Lysander overturned an examination table, using it as cover. I drew my weapon, returning fire, my aim true—three mercenaries dropped before they could close the distance.
Lysander shifted into wolf form, a massive brown blur of controlled fury. He tore into the attackers, silver bullets grazing him but not stopping his momentum.
Outside, Seth and Marcus heard the gunfire. Within seconds, Gamma warriors poured in from both sides, catching the mercenaries in a deadly crossfire.
The battle lasted ten minutes. Ten minutes of controlled chaos, of silver and steel, of wolf-form savagery and human precision.
When the smoke cleared, all twenty mercenaries lay dead.
But Patrick Raven was gone.
---
"Tracking him," Seth reported through the comm. "He's heading deeper into the facility—toward the central laboratory."
Lysander shifted back to human form, blood streaking his shoulder where a silver bullet had grazed him. He caught my look and shook his head. "Later. We finish this first."
We ran through the corridors, following the heat signatures Seth fed us. Patrick was fast, but not fast enough.
We found him in the heart of the facility—a vast laboratory space filled with cells. Dozens of cells. Most empty now, but the lingering scent of human blood and fear was overwhelming.
Patrick stood in the center, gun in hand, aimed at the door.
"Stop right there!" His voice cracked. "I'll shoot—I swear I'll—"
I pushed through the door first. He fired immediately.
Lysander's wolf form slammed into me from the side. The silver bullet meant for my heart caught him in the shoulder instead.
He went down hard, blood spreading across the floor.
"Lysander!" I dropped beside him, hands pressing against the wound.
I'm fine, his voice came through our bond, tight with pain. Get him.
Patrick was raising his gun again, hands shaking, trying to line up another shot.
I shifted.
My wolf burst forth in a silver-gray flash. Patrick's eyes widened—he tried to track me, but I was faster. My jaws clamped down on his gun hand, bone crunching, and he screamed.
The gun clattered to the floor. Patrick collapsed, clutching his ruined wrist, blood pouring between his fingers.
I shifted back to human form and picked up his gun.
"Any last words?" I chambered a round, my voice ice-cold.
Patrick laughed—actually laughed, blood-flecked and manic. "Kill me if you want! NorthStar still exists! Apex is still in production! Your mother's research will never disappear! It's immortal, just like I—"
"That's enough."
BANG.
The gunshot echoed through the laboratory. Patrick's body crumpled, his laughter cut off mid-breath.
I stood over him, the gun still smoking in my hand. No regret. No hesitation.
Just cold, clean justice.
---
"Nyx!" Lysander had shifted back, pressing his hand against his shoulder wound. "We need to get that bullet out—"
"I know." I knelt beside him, pulling out my knife. "This is going to hurt."
"Just do it."
I dug the silver bullet out as quickly and cleanly as I could. Lysander bit down on his lip, blood welling, but didn't make a sound.
"All clear," Seth's voice crackled through the comm. "Exterior guards neutralized. Zero casualties on our side."
"Hostage situation?" I asked, bandaging Lysander's shoulder.
"Marcus found thirty-seven humans in the detention wing," Seth reported. "Conditions are critical. We need immediate medical evacuation."
"Do it." I stood, helping Lysander to his feet. "And Seth—I want every piece of research, every document, every hard drive from Patrick's office. We preserve it all as evidence."
"Copy that."
Lysander leaned against me as we made our way out of the laboratory. Behind us, Gamma warriors were already coordinating the rescue operation, bringing out the survivors, securing the evidence.
"It's over," Lysander murmured. "Patrick's dead. The facility's shut down."
"Not quite." My phone buzzed—a call from Damon. I answered. "Damon?"
"Nyx." His voice was exhausted. "I need to tell you something. Selene... she was taken by Silverpine Pack's people last night."
I went still. "What?"
"They found her this morning. Dead. Tortured. They left a message beside her body: 'Blood for blood.'"
I should have felt something—shock, perhaps, or satisfaction. Instead, there was only cold emptiness.
"She got what she deserved," I said flatly.
Silence. Then: "...I know. I just thought you should know."
"Are you okay?" The question surprised me even as I asked it.
A bitter laugh. "I will be. Lilith's waiting for me."
"Take care of my sister, Damon."
"Always."
The call ended. I pocketed my phone and looked at Lysander.
"Selene's dead," I said simply. "Silverpine Pack took their revenge."
Lysander's expression didn't change. "Good."
We walked out of Phoenix Lab together into the breaking dawn. Behind us, smoke rose from the destroyed facility. The chapter was closing.
But the final reckoning—with Father, with Raymond, with everyone who'd enabled this nightmare—that was still to come.