Chapter 68: The Underground Kill

\- ROWAN

The bird had arrived at dawn, a tiny, shivering thing with a scrap of silk tied to its leg. Liora’s handwriting was frantic, the ink smeared as if she’d written it while looking over her shoulder. Three days. The south gate goes manual. She’s breathing, but the cage is tightening.

I crumpled the silk in my fist until the edges bit into my palm.

"Alpha." Galen’s voice was a low rasp from the thicket behind me. "The patrol is cycling back. If we’re going to move, it’s now or we wait another four hours in the mud."

I looked down at the manor. From this ridge, it looked like a jewel box—ornate, expensive, and cold. Kaelen had spent the last two days playing host to every high-ranked Alpha within three territories. I’d watched them through the glass of my scope: the handshakes, the toasts, the signing of a treaty that smelled like a trap from a mile away.

But mostly, I’d watched her.

I’d seen Selene on that grand staircase, draped in purple silk like a funeral shroud. She looked like a queen, but I knew the tension in her jaw. I knew the way she held her breath when Kaelen touched her. Every time his hand settled on her waist, I had to fight the urge to chamber a round and take his head off right there.

"The main gates are a suicide run," I muttered, sliding back into the shadows with Galen. "He’s got snipers on the North balcony and a double-guard rotation at the service entrance. He’s not just protecting a meeting; he’s barricading a prisoner."

Galen wiped a streak of grime from his forehead. "There’s a reason he’s so relaxed about the perimeter, though. He thinks the cliffside is impassable. But Liora mentioned an old drainage system—the 'Black Flue.' It hasn't been used since the old Alpha’s time."

"Show me," I said.

We moved like ghosts through the undergrowth, staying downwind of the guard dogs. The manor sat on a limestone shelf, and as we descended toward the ravine, the air grew damp and heavy with the smell of rotting leaves.

We found it tucked behind a curtain of frozen ivy. A heavy iron grate, rusted orange, set into the base of the rock. It wasn't just a drain; it was a tunnel, wide enough for a man to crawl through if he didn't mind the filth.

But it wasn't unguarded.

Two men stood by the entrance, smoking and huddling against the wind. They weren't standard pack guards. They wore the dark, tactical gear of Kaelen’s personal enforcers.

"He knows," Galen whispered, his hand going to his blade. "He knows about the tunnel."

"He suspects," I corrected, my blood starting to simmer. "If he knew for sure, there’d be ten men here and a pile of explosives."

I pulled my knife. The silver edge caught the dull grey light of the afternoon. I didn't want to use the rifle; the echo in this ravine would bring the whole pack down on us before we hit the stairs.

"Left one is mine," I breathed. "On the count of three."

One.

I felt the shift in the air, the way the forest went silent.

Two.

My muscles coiled, the familiar hum of the hunt vibrating in my bones.

Three.

I didn't run; I launched.

The guard on the left didn't even have time to drop his cigarette. I was on him before he could inhale. I clamped one hand over his mouth, pulling his head back to expose the throat, and drove the blade home. It was a clean, silent strike. He let out a muffled grunt, his body going limp against me as I lowered him to the wet stone.

To my right, Galen was a blur of motion. He’d caught the second guard in a sleeper hold, his dagger buried deep in the man’s side. There was a brief, desperate struggle—the scuff of boots on gravel—and then silence returned to the ravine.

I wiped my blade on the guard’s jacket, my chest heaving. The adrenaline was a jagged spike in my veins.

"Help me move them," I said.

We dragged the bodies behind the ivy, stripping them of their radios and keys. I looked at the iron grate. It was locked with a heavy chain, but the rust had done half my work for me. I jammed a crowbar into the link and heaved.

With a sickening crack, the metal gave way.

"Go back to the ridge," I told Galen, checking my sidearm. "If I’m not out by dawn, you take Selene and Liora, and you run. Don't wait for me."

"Alpha—"

"That’s an order, Galen. I’m not losing anyone else to this house."

He hesitated, then nodded once, a sharp, military motion. "Bring her back."

I stepped into the tunnel.

The darkness hit me like a wall. It was cold—a deep, ancient cold that felt like it belonged in a grave. I clicked on a small penlight, the beam cutting through the gloom. The walls were slick with moisture, and the air tasted of salt and old copper.

I moved fast, my boots splashing through shallow, stagnant water. My mind was a map of the manor’s layout, calculating the distance. I had to be directly under the east wing. If the blueprints Liora swiped were right, this tunnel led to a hidden spiral staircase that came up behind the library.

Every sound was magnified. The drip of water sounded like a gunshot. The scuttle of a rat made my hand fly to my holster.

I was coming for her.

I thought about the last time I’d held her, the way her hair smelled of jasmine and rain. I thought about the bruise I’d seen on her shoulder through the scope. The rage flared up again, hot and blinding, but I pushed it down. Rage made you sloppy and got you caught.

I reached a heavy wooden door at the end of the passage. It was reinforced with iron straps, but the wood was soft with rot. I didn't use the keys; I leaned my shoulder into it and pushed. The hinges groaned, a long, low protest that echoed up the shaft beyond.

I froze, listening.

Nothing.

I stepped onto the first stone step of the spiral staircase. It was narrow and steep, winding upward into the bowels of the house. As I climbed, the air changed. The smell of damp earth faded, replaced by the faint, lingering scent of beeswax and expensive tobacco.

I was inside.

I reached a small landing. A narrow slit in the wall allowed a sliver of light to bleed through. I peered out. It was the library. The room was empty, the fire in the hearth reduced to glowing embers.

My heart was thudding against my ribs, a frantic, rhythmic beat. I was only a floor away from Selene. One floor between me and the woman Kaelen thought he’d broken.

I pressed my hand against the hidden panel in the bookshelf. It swung open with a hiss of air.

I stepped into the library, my eyes scanning the shadows. The house was quiet, the heavy silence of a predator at rest. I knew the guard rotation—I had ten minutes before the hall patrol looped back.

I moved toward the door, my footsteps silent on the thick Persian rug.

I’m here, Selene, I thought, the words a silent vow. I’m here, and I’m taking you home.

I reached for the door handle, but it turned before I could touch it. I ducked behind a high-backed leather chair, my hand on my knife, my breath held.

A shadow slipped into the room.

"Rowan?"

The voice was a whisper, but I’d know it in a riot. It wasn't Selene.

It was Liora. She looked like she’d aged five years in two days. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was clutching a bundle of laundry to her chest like a shield.

I stepped out from behind the chair. She nearly dropped the basket, her gasp muffled by her hand.

"God, you’re here," she breathed, stumbling toward me. "How did you get past the guards at the flue?"

"They’re taken care of," I said, my voice like gravel. "Where is she? Is she alone?"

"Kaelen is in his study. He’s... he’s obsessed. He’s barely slept. He’s convinced she’s planning something, but he can’t prove it. He carried her up to the room tonight. I think... I think he’s finally snapped."

The world went red. "Is she hurt?"

"She’s holding him off. She’s using his own head against him, but it won't last. He’s an Alpha. Eventually, he’ll stop listening to her words and start listening to his blood."

"Take me to her. Now."

"I can't," Liora whispered, her eyes darting to the door. "The hallway is crawling with guards. You’ll never make it to the master suite. You have to wait for the shift change at dawn. That’s the plan."

"I’m not waiting for dawn while he’s in the room with her," I hissed, stepping toward her.

"Rowan, listen to me! If you go up there now and fail, we all die. Betsy, me... and Selene. She told me to tell you, if you came early: Wait for the song."

I stopped. The song. It was our code. The signal that the perimeter was soft.

I closed my eyes, the frustration boiling in my gut. She was right. If I charged in now, I’d be dead before I hit the landing, and she’d be left with no one.

"Where can I wait?" I asked.

"The priest hole behind the fireplace," Liora said, pointing to the massive stone hearth. "There’s a lever inside the woodbox. Stay there. I’ll bring you water and a status report in an hour."

She grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "She’s stronger than you think. She’s not just surviving. She’s winning. Just... give her tonight."

I looked at the ceiling, toward the room where the man I hated was holding the woman I loved.

"One night," I whispered. "But if I hear her scream, Liora, I don't care about the plan. I’ll burn this whole house down with everyone in it."

Liora nodded, her face grim. "I know."

She slipped back out into the hall, and I moved toward the fireplace. I stepped into the cramped, dark space behind the stones, the scent of soot and old wood closing in around me.

I sat in the dark, my hand on my knife, listening to the heartbeat of the house.

Two days left, I thought. And then, Kaelen, I’m going to show you what a real monster looks like.