Chapter 92

Chapter 92
The silence in the room was deafening.

Skylar stood frozen at the threshold of the dimly lit warehouse, her breath catching in her throat. Damon was still strapped to the chair in the center of the room, blood trickling down the side of his face, but his eyes—his eyes were locked on something behind her.

“No…” Damon choked out. “Skylar, behind you—”

Before she could turn, a cold barrel pressed against the back of her neck.

“Nice of you to join us,” a gravelly voice sneered.

Her heart thundered as she raised her hands slowly. She didn’t have to look to know who it was—Logan. The rogue alpha.

“Let her go,” Damon growled, his voice raw. “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Doesn’t she?” Logan chuckled darkly. “She’s the reason you started snooping around in the first place. She’s your weakness. And now—she’s your leash.”

Skylar’s mind raced. She needed to stall—keep Logan talking. “What do you even want, Logan? This war, this… destruction. It won’t bring your pack back.”

Logan’s fingers twitched on the trigger. “Don’t talk to me about my pack. They were slaughtered while your precious council stood by. Damon’s father among them.”

“That wasn’t Damon,” Skylar said sharply, inching to the side just slightly. “He’s not his father.”

“No,” Logan agreed. “But he’ll pay for his father’s sins.”

A sudden crash echoed from the far corner of the warehouse. All heads snapped toward it. A figure darted out of the shadows—Rhea.

“Skylar, now!” Rhea shouted.

Skylar dropped to the floor as Rhea tackled Logan from behind, sending them both sprawling. The gun clattered away, skidding across the cement floor. Damon strained against his bonds, yelling for Skylar.

“Get to Damon!” Rhea yelled, wrestling with Logan, claws out and eyes glowing.

Skylar scrambled to her feet and ran toward Damon. Her fingers trembled as she pulled a knife from her boot and began sawing through the ropes.

“Come on, come on,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Rhea and Logan were locked in a brutal battle—blood smeared across the floor, growls echoing in the air.

Finally, the rope snapped. Damon surged to his feet, immediately pulling Skylar behind him.

“Go!” he yelled, pushing her toward the exit. “Get out of here!”

But Skylar didn’t move. “Not without you.”

Logan roared and threw Rhea off him. She hit the wall hard, sliding to the floor. Blood trailed from her mouth.

“You should’ve stayed away,” Logan snarled, grabbing the fallen gun.

Damon stepped in front of Skylar just as the shot rang out.

But it wasn’t Damon who fell.

Rhea, dragging herself up with the last of her strength, had thrown a metal pipe just as Logan fired. The shot went wide, ricocheting off the ceiling. Skylar tackled Logan, catching him off guard. They tumbled to the ground, struggling for control of the weapon.

Damon joined the fray, punching Logan with a savage fury Skylar had never seen in him. Blow after blow landed until Logan slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Damon pulled Skylar into his arms. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Skylar nodded, still catching her breath. “I’m fine. But Rhea…”

They both turned to where Rhea lay. Damon knelt beside her, checking her pulse.

“She’s alive,” he said. “Barely.”

Sirens wailed in the distance—Rhea must have triggered the silent alarm before confronting Logan.

They had to move.

Together, they lifted Rhea and made their way out of the warehouse. Outside, black SUVs skidded to a stop. Wolves in tactical gear poured out—reinforcements from the High Council.

Damon handed Rhea over and turned to Skylar.

“You saved me,” he said, his voice low. “Again.”

Skylar’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ve always protected me. It was my turn.”

A shadow fell over them—Elias, the acting head of the Council.

“You have a lot to explain, Damon,” Elias said grimly. “Logan was supposed to be dead.”

“He faked it. He’s been building forces underground,” Damon replied. “He’s not alone.”

Elias’s jaw tightened. “Bring him in. We’ll extract everything we can.”

As Logan was hauled away, his eyes opened, locking onto Skylar and Damon. He grinned—bloody and broken, but still smug.

“You think it’s over?” he rasped. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

Damon’s stomach twisted. “What does that mean?”

Logan laughed—low and cruel—before falling into unconsciousness.

Later that night, Skylar sat on the balcony of the safehouse, wrapped in a blanket. The stars were distant, cold. Damon joined her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

“We should rest,” he said softly. “You’ve been through hell.”

Skylar leaned into him. “So have you.”

“I don’t know what happens next,” Damon admitted. “But I do know I don’t want to face it without you.”

She looked up at him, her heart beating faster. “Then don’t.”

Their lips met—soft at first, then deeper, desperate. In that kiss was everything they’d lost and everything they hoped to regain.

But as they held each other close, neither noticed the red blinking light across the street—hidden in a parked car.

Someone was watching.

⸻

Cliffhanger: A mysterious figure, shrouded in shadows, leaned back in the driver’s seat, a phone pressed to their ear.

“They’ve taken the bait,” the voice said coldly. “Initiate phase two.”

The line disconnected.

The trap was only just beginning to close.