Chapter 226 Ooops
Suspended inside a massive, reinforced glass jar was a heart. It was unnaturally large, floating in a pale, sterile fluid. But it wasn't a static specimen. With a wet, sickening thump-squelch, the muscle violently contracted.
It was still beating.
Synthetic, plastic veins were crudely stitched into the valves of the disembodied heart. A mechanical pump whirred softly beneath the table, pushing a horrific, viscous, bright silver goo in a continuous, endless loop to keep the dead tissue artificially, endlessly alive.
Fennigan stared at the silver substance pumping through the tubes, his blood running entirely cold. It was the exact same experimental compound that had leaked from Damon's dying veins when Toby had put a bullet in his chest on Fennigan's direct order. That single gunshot had stopped the monster just seconds before he could drag Caspian and Briar down into this subterranean hell.
Behind the jar, the cavern walls were completely plastered with chaotic, sprawling diagrams. It was a madman's web connecting genetic blueprints, elemental runework, anatomical sketches, and the Blackwood family tree.
Miller cowered in the doorway, whimpering as he watched the two towering brothers take in the absolute nightmare their father had built in the dark.
The fragile, iron-clad control Jax had maintained since Toby put that bullet in Damon’s chest finally, violently shattered.
He had survived the bunker. He had survived the clones. He had even survived the sickening revelation of the bone ring. But seeing Ginny’s name—seeing the physical proof that the monster had secretly harvested tissue from his sweet, innocent mate and submerged it in a dish of rotting blood—was the absolute line in the sand.
A blinding, red-hot wave of pure Beta fury exploded in Jax’s chest.
With a guttural, feral roar that shook the fluorescent lights overhead, Jax lashed out. His massive hand swept across a stainless-steel surgical tray resting near the examination table. He bypassed the bone saws and clamps, his calloused fingers perfectly closing around the cold, textured grip of a heavy, medical-grade scalpel.
In one fluid, terrifyingly fast motion, Jax spun on his heel and launched the blade directly at the doorway.
Miller didn't even have time to scream.
The silver scalpel sliced through the freezing air like a bullet. With a sharp, violent THWACK, the surgical steel buried itself nearly two inches deep into the solid frame of the titanium door.
It was a perfectly calculated, "accidental" miss. The razor-sharp edge of the blade was embedded exactly half an inch from Miller’s right ear, severing a single strand of the tech expert’s hair before burying itself in the metal.
Miller’s knees instantly buckled. He slid down the doorframe and collapsed into a pathetic, weeping heap on the floor, a dark, wet stain immediately spreading across the front of his trousers.
"Oops," Jax snarled, his voice vibrating with a dark, homicidal static. His chest heaved, his silver eyes completely dilated with his wolf's intent to kill as he stalked slowly toward the cowering traitor. "My hand slipped."
"Alpha, please!" Miller sobbed, pressing his hands over his head and curling into a ball. "I didn't know about the dishes! I swear to the Goddess, he never let me in here!"
Jax reached down, his massive hands curling into fists. "I am going to tear you apart, piece by—"
"Jax. Stop."
Fennigan’s voice wasn't a roar, but the heavy, absolute Alpha command in his tone hit Jax like a physical wall, freezing the Beta in his tracks.
Fennigan didn't look at Miller. The Alpha was standing perfectly still in front of the massive glass jar in the corner of the Vault. The pale, buzzing light reflected off his soot-stained face as he stared mesmerized at the unnaturally large, disembodied heart.
Thump-squelch. The muscle violently contracted, pushing another sickening loop of the bright silver goo through the plastic veins.
"Let him rot on the floor," Fennigan rumbled softly, his glowing silver eyes narrowing at the chaotic web of diagrams plastered on the rock wall behind the jar. "Ginny is safe upstairs. The twins are safe. Damon is dead. Right now, we need our heads clear."
Fennigan slowly reached out, his fingertips brushing against the freezing glass of the suspension jar. The sheer size of the heart was entirely wrong for a normal wolf.
"We need to grab every single journal on that wall, and we need to figure out exactly what the hell we're looking at," Fennigan whispered, the dark reality of the room settling heavily over his broad shoulders. "Because if Damon couldn't create a soul... then whose heart is this?"
The fragile restraint shattered.
Jax let out a guttural, furious snarl and lunged for the wall of heavy steel filing cabinets. He didn't bother looking for keys or picking locks. He curled his massive, calloused fingers under the handle of the top drawer and violently wrenched backward.
With a deafening screech of tearing metal, the entire drawer ripped completely off its tracks.
Jax hurled the heavy steel box to the floor, sending hundreds of meticulously cataloged files, blueprints, and manila folders spilling across the cold rock. He dropped to his knees, his hands frantically tearing through the scattered papers, searching for any medical file that matched the massive, disembodied heart thumping in the corner.
He ripped open a thick folder, his silver eyes scanning Damon's elegant, psychopathic handwriting. The breath violently left Jax’s lungs.
"Goddess..." Jax choked out, dropping the folder as if the paper itself burned him.
"What?" Fennigan demanded, abandoning the wall of diagrams and stepping over the scattered files.
"They weren't all lab-grown clones," Jax whispered, his voice trembling with a sickening mix of grief and absolute rage. He looked up at his Alpha. "Fenn... he took actual wolf pups. Pups from the lower-ranking border patrols who 'went missing' in the woods. He took them, and he tried to splice their DNA with the elemental tissue Vane sent him. He was trying to force the magic into living, breathing children."
Fennigan’s jaw locked so tight his teeth ground together. The depth of Damon's depravity had absolutely no bottom.
Jax tore through three more ripped-out drawers, tossing files over his shoulder in a blind panic. "Failed. Failed. Subject deceased. Damn it, there's nothing here about the heart! None of these organ weights match what's in that jar!"
"Jax," Fennigan rumbled softly, his glowing eyes fixed on the corner of the room.
The Alpha stepped past the weeping, trembling form of Miller on the floor. He walked right up to the stainless steel table holding the massive, reinforced glass jar. Thump-squelch. The unnaturally large heart beat heavily against the glass, pushing the bright silver goo through the plastic veins.
Fennigan wasn't looking at the heart anymore. His eyes had dropped to the heavy steel base of the table, directly beneath the mechanical pump.
Recessed perfectly into the metal pedestal holding the suspension tank was a single, flush-mounted drawer. There were no labels. No locks. Just a hidden compartment built specifically to stay with the specimen.
Fennigan reached down, hooked his finger under the steel lip, and pulled.