Chapter 56 The Reckoning

Chapter 56 The Reckoning
Lucienne's Point of View

The sheer arrogance of my captors. They thought they had me trapped, powerless. Fools.

Now, Elizabeth and Rodney sat in the corner of the cell I had once inhabited, their faces pale as they realised they were trapped. Their façade of control had crumbled, and seeing the fear in their eyes was almost pitiful. They wouldn't escape justice. Not this time.

For now, though, my focus was on someone else-Beatrice.

Her betrayal wasn't personal. It didn't sting, nor did it matter enough to hurt.

Beatrice was simply another obstacle to remove, a loose end to tie up. However, like Elizabeth, she was an instigator in my abduction. Beatrice was about to learn that actions had consequences, and I intended to ensure she faced them.

Elizabeth's voice, shrill and panicked, broke through my thoughts. "You won't get out of here alive, Lucienne. Upstairs is full of rogues. By the time Marc and Cole get here, you'll die!"

I smiled coldly. Well, as much of a smile as I could in Lycan form. It was more like a predator sizing up prey. "You've already lost, Elizabeth. You just don't know it yet.”

"Beatrice will be Luna and mate with Cole and Marc!" she screeched, her voice cracking with desperation.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch," Rodney sneered, cutting off her tirade. He slumped against the wall, resting his elbows on his knees. Unlike Elizabeth, he seemed resigned to his captivity, though his disdainful tone hinted at his bitterness.

I didn't waste another second on either of them. I turned and made my way out of the cell, my every step purposeful.

The hallway outside was dim, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through high, broken windows. My heightened senses guided me as I moved, my ears attuned to the distant chaos—the sounds of shouting, growls, and the clash of claws and steel.

I paused at the foot of a wide staircase, eyes scanning the building around me. The ground floor was sparse, with a concrete floor and a narrow corridor leading to what appeared to be a larger room ahead. The air was thick with the acrid scent of rogues, sweat, and fear.

Before heading further, I opened the mind-link to Marc and Cole. "I've escaped. Rodney and Elizabeth are contained. I'm going after Beatrice. Michaela needs rescuing, too."

The twins' relief was palpable, their emotions brushing against my mind like a reassuring balm. "You might be able to tell that we have started our attack. Stay focused, my love," Marc replied, his tone firm but laced with concern.

"We miss you so much, my love,” Cole chimed in. “We're moving in and clearing the lower levels. Call out if you need backup. We love you!"

They said it! They love me too! I took a moment to revel in that before answering. "Understood. I love you both, too," I cut the link and focused once more on what I was doing.

Beatrice's scent was faint, a thread weaving through the chaos. My instincts told me she was above, possibly trying to regroup or escape. I stepped into the corridor, my senses on high alert as I approached the large room.

The room opened into a cavernous space, the high ceilings amplifying the shouts and snarls of rogues scurrying in every direction. Their panic was evident as they realised they were under attack.

I stayed just outside the room, assessing the scene. There were at least twenty rogues here; none of them shifted. However, their movements were frantic and disorganised. Across the room, I spotted the staircase leading to the upper level. My path was clear, but it wouldn't be easy.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the shadows and into the fray.

The first rogue didn't even see me coming. I grabbed him by the arm and hurled him into the wall with a satisfying crack. The others turned at the commotion, their eyes widening as they recognised me.

"Stop her!" one of them yelled, his voice breaking as I advanced.

They lunged at me but were no match for my training or fury. I barreled through them, my fists and claws striking with precision. One after another, they fell, some unconscious, others scrambling to get away.

A rogue managed to grab my arm, but I twisted free and slammed him into another, charging at me. My blood sang with the thrill of the fight, but I didn't linger. My focus was on the stairs.

Just as I reached the base, a familiar presence washed over me, followed by the low growls of Lycans. A crash echoed through the hallway, followed by familiar scents flooding the air. My mates were here and had breached the warehouse.

My parents led the charge, their massive Lycan forms tearing through the rogues like a storm. Their overpowering aura and authority were evident in the heat of battle. My mother’s Lycan was almost identical to mine, while my father’s was black with tinges of other colours. I have never been so happy to see them.

Cole and Marc’s Lycans weren't far behind. Even in the heat of battle, I could appreciate how similar they were to my father’s Lycan. The rest of my extended family and allies followed; their combined strength would overwhelm the rogues easily.

Cole's golden eyes met mine briefly as he dispatched a rogue with a single swipe of his claws. "Go. We've got this."

I nodded, returning to the stairs and taking them two at a time. Beatrice was close—| could feel it. Her scent grew stronger as I ascended, leading me to the upper level and the confrontation I had been waiting for.

Following Beatrice’s scent through the dimly lit corridor, my every step was quiet but purposeful. The smell of silver mixed with sweat and fear grew stronger with each step, guiding me toward a door at the far end of the hallway. I knew I was close. Beatrice was here—and Michaela too.

When I reached the door, I shoved it open without hesitation. Inside, I could see Michaela sitting on a narrow bed. She was dressed but shackled by a silver cuff that bit into her wrist, leaving angry, raw burns on her skin. Beatrice lay sprawled across another bed, asleep and reeking of Rodney.

Disgust roiled inside me, but I focused on Michaela first. I crossed the room in a few long strides and grabbed the silver cuff. With a sharp twist, the metal gave way, snapping with a loud crack. Michaela let out a shaky gasp of relief, cradling her blistered and raw wrist.

The noise startled Beatrice awake. She jolted upright, her wide eyes locking onto me. Her mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Then she scrambled back against the headboard like a frightened rat.

“What the—” she screeched before her voice pitched higher. “Rodney! Help!”

“He can’t help you,” I mind-linked her. “I have already dealt with him.”

The door slammed open, and Dwayne stumbled in. He was so panicked he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face. Pathetic.

I growled low in my throat, letting the sound rumble through the room. The air instantly thickened with tension, and both of them froze. The sour and sharp smell of their fear filled the room.

Turning to Michaela, I softened my voice and opened the mind-link. “Michaela, I’m Lucienne. I’ve come to get you out of here.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and relief flooded her face as my words sank in. She nodded and tilted her head slightly. “Luna,” she whispered, her voice shaking but filled with gratitude.

“What?” yelled Beatrice, her voice grating on my nerves. “How is she the Luna?”

“Oh shut up, Beatrice,” she admonished. “This is Luna Lucienne. Yeah. She’s a Lycan.”

Her acknowledgement made my chest swell with pride. I nodded back. “I need you to check the rest of the floor. Make sure no one else is here.”

Michaela hesitated for a moment, her exhaustion was etched into every line of her face. With a small nod, she straightened herself, surprising me with her composure. Quietly, she slipped out the door, leaving me alone with Beatrice and Dwayne.

I turned my full attention to Beatrice. She was plastered against the headboard like a cornered animal, trembling uncontrollably. Her lips moved, repeating over and over again, “No. No. No.” It was a mantra of disbelief, a desperate attempt to deny what was right before her.

“Stop it,” I said coldly, stepping closer. My Lycan form towered over her, my claws flexing as I fought the urge to drag her from the bed. Her wide eyes darted across my figure, taking in every detail—the sharpness of my claws, the predatory glow of my amethyst-coloured eyes, the sheer size of my frame. She was finally realising who, or rather what, I truly was.

“You-you're a Lycan,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her face paled further, her mouth hanging open in shock. “This isn’t possible. You can’t be—no! This can’t be happening!”

I tilted my head, my expression icy. “You didn’t know?” My voice dripped with derision, each word cutting through her panic. “You couldn’t work it out that the ‘Gamma’ you wanted to kidnap was also a member of the Royal Lycan family? Commonsense would dictate that I must also be a Lycan. Or were you just that stupid?”