Chapter 240 Chapter 240

Chapter 240 Chapter 240
Rayne

Eden followed Amber’s scent with ruthless focus, every step deliberate, every breath measured. The faint trail of honeysuckle lingered like a memory clinging to the air, threading through the stale underground corridors as if she had passed through only moments ago. The deeper we went, the more the scent sharpened, and with it, the urgency coiling inside my chest tightened into something almost unbearable.

Then we stopped.

In front of us stood a solid concrete wall.

No door. No visible seam. No crack large enough to suggest passage. Just an impenetrable barrier that mocked the certainty in Eden’s movements.

For a second, irritation surged through me.

“Don’t tell me your snout is broken,” I muttered internally, the stress fraying my restraint. “We’re close to death’s door and you’re leading us into a wall?”

Eden’s response was immediate and edged with fury.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The words weren’t defensive. They were absolute. “There’s no mistake. This is where her scent leads.”

I stared at the wall, mind racing. “Even if that’s true, she couldn’t have just disappeared. She’s not smoke.”

Eden didn’t answer immediately. I felt him recalibrating—testing airflow, subtle vibrations, microscopic shifts in temperature. The scent was strongest here. It clung stubbornly to this exact spot.

And then something clicked.

A memory surfaced from earlier; the hidden passage above ground, cleverly concealed behind what had looked like ordinary furniture.

My pulse quickened.

“Wait a minute,” I transmitted. “What if it’s another hidden room like on the surface?”

Eden’s silence sharpened into focus.

“Only one way to find out.”

He stepped back and planted our feet firmly into the ground. The air felt dense, charged with anticipation. Without hesitation, he drove our fist straight into the concrete.

The impact thundered through the corridor.

Pain shot up our arm instantly, sharp and vicious, the skin on our knuckles splitting open as blood smeared against fractured stone. The force vibrated through bone and muscle, and I knew our hand would pay for this later. Possibly broken. Definitely damaged.

That didn’t matter. We could worry about that later once Amber was safe and back home with me and our daughter where she belonged.

Eden struck again.

Concrete cracked further, splintering under the repeated assault. Dust burst outward in thick clouds, coating the air and our lungs. A third blow sent a jagged section collapsing inward with a deafening crash.

The wall gave way.

Not gracefully or cleanly.

It shattered.

Chunks of concrete fell at our feet, revealing darkness behind what had seemed solid moments ago. We climbed over the rubble, boots crunching over debris, and stepped into the hidden space beyond.

And there it was.

A fully functional elevator.

It stood pristine and untouched, metallic doors gleaming faintly under overhead lights. He even went as far as building an underground elevator, which must have taken a while to put together. Erlan had planned this carefully. Of course he had. How the hell did he do all this and I didn't have an inkling? It felt like another slap on my face.

It likely led straight to the surface.

Straight to escape.

Rage burned hotter in my veins.

Without hesitation, we stepped inside and slammed the button for the top floor. The doors slid shut with mechanical efficiency, sealing us inside a confined box that suddenly felt too small.

The elevator jerked upward.

Almost immediately, Eden recoiled.

He would never admit it, not even to me but the vertical motion unsettled him. His instincts preferred ground, wind, nature. Enclosed upward movement twisted something in his equilibrium.

“Switch back now,” he muttered tersely.

I surged forward and reclaimed control.

The transition felt smoother this time, like slipping into a familiar skin. The elevator climbed steadily, mechanical hum filling the enclosed space.

Then I heard it.

Faint at first.

A rhythmic, growing thunder.

Rotor blades.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

He was about to leave.

Erlan was about to take off.

Every second stretched thin, torturous. If I was too late—if the helicopter lifted even inches off that balcony—I would lose her.

The thought carved through me with brutal clarity.

Lose her.

Forever.

The elevator felt agonizingly slow. I resisted the urge to punch the control panel in frustration.

Finally, with a soft mechanical chime, the doors slid open.

Cold air rushed in immediately, carrying the sharp scent of rot and aviation fuel. I stepped out into chaos.

The massive balcony of the dilapidated mansion stretched before me, cracked stone glinting faintly under spinning helicopter lights. The wind from the blades tore across the open space, whipping debris into spirals and tugging violently at my clothes.

And there—

A helicopter sat waiting, engines roaring.

Erlan stood near it.

He was dragging Amber toward the open door.

Her hands were tied behind her back, rope biting into her wrists. Tape covered her mouth. Strands of her hair lashed wildly across her face as she struggled against his grip, her feet stumbling as he pulled her forward with impatient force.

Something inside me snapped.

“Stop right there!” I roared over the thunder of the rotors. “Get your hands off my mate, Erlan!”

Both of them turned.

Amber’s eyes found mine.

And everything inside my chest shifted.

Relief flooded her expression so openly it struck me like a physical blow. There was no bitterness there. No defiance. No cold distance.

She looked… glad.

Glad to see me.

For the first time since everything had fallen apart between us, she looked at me like I was someone she'd been waiting for. Like I held salvation itself.

That involuntary flutter in my chest nearly undid me.

Erlan, however, wore a grin that bordered on madness.

“Oh wow!” he called out theatrically, voice barely competing with the roar of the helicopter. “Despite all my efforts it looks like you made it right on time! The prince that rushes in to save the damsel in distress.”

His smile widened as he tightened his grip on Amber’s arm.

“I feel like I’m in some cliché romance novel.”

“Enough of this nonsense, Erlan,” I shot back, stepping forward despite the wind battering against me. “This is the end of your schemes.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like an amusing experiment.

“You really won’t make this easy, will you?” he mused. “I suppose it would be no fun if you didn’t put up a fight.”

Before I could take another step, his hand moved with startling speed.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled a gun from inside his coat.

The metallic glint caught the spinning helicopter lights as he pressed the barrel firmly against Amber’s temple.

Everything inside me froze.

The wind howled.

The rotor blades thundered.

Amber’s terrified eyes locked onto mine.

“Move one more step,” Erlan said calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos with chilling clarity, “and you’ll be making arrangements for her funeral.”