Chapter 181
Chapter 181
Rhea
The apartment felt like home after weeks of hell—warm lights, familiar furniture, the quiet hum of the heater mixing Kael's pine scent with Jax's leather and my own cedar and rose. I stood in the bathroom doorway drying my hair, wearing nothing but an oversized sleep shirt and cotton shorts. My muscles ached in that good way that promised I'd sleep like the dead.
Kael and Jax had taken the apartment next door to keep things proper, but I could feel them through the bond even through the wall. Kael doing his nightly weapon check, Jax finally winding down and sprawling on his bed. Their presence was better than any lullaby.
I padded barefoot toward my bedroom, still rubbing the towel through my hair, when everything went to shit.
The window exploded inward—not with a crash, but with the quiet precision of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Black-clad figures poured through like smoke, moving together like a wolf pack that had hunted for years. I didn't even get a chance to scream before iron arms locked around me from behind, yanking me against a body that felt like frozen rage.
A blade kissed my throat, so sharp I felt the sting before the pressure. My wolf surged up in panic, but the silver-laced steel sent pain shooting through my nerves, forcing her back down with a whimper. Then the smell hit me—smoke and copper and rotting meat, the same stench that haunted my nightmares.
"Did you miss me, my bride?" Tyrant's voice slithered in my ear, each word making my skin crawl. His breath was hot and rank against my neck, bringing back memories of his teeth tearing into my flesh. "Did you really think you could run forever? That those pathetic politicians could protect you?"
My whole body went rigid, every muscle locking up as the old scars on my neck started burning. The half-healed bite mark—the one Alex had broken—throbbed like Tyrant's presence alone could bring back his dark magic. I felt his free hand sliding up my ribs, fingers tracing my waist like he owned me, and I wanted to throw up.
"Let me go," I managed, hating how my voice shook. The blade pressed harder. Warmth trickled down my neck. "You lost. The engagement's void. The council—"
"Lost?" His laugh was like nails on a chalkboard, sharp and wrong. The hand at my waist slid higher, thumb brushing under my breast through the thin shirt, and he breathed in deep against my hair. "Oh, darling Rhea. I haven't lost shit. Laws only matter when someone's alive to enforce them. And once I have you back where you belong—once I've marked you properly, once your belly's full of my kid—who's gonna stop me? Your mates?" The word dripped with contempt. "I'll mount their heads on my palace walls and make you watch."
His fingers found the scar tissue where his bite had been, the raised ridges where Alex had ruined his claim. He pressed down hard, and white-hot agony shot through my entire left side. I couldn't stop the cry that ripped from my throat, couldn't keep my knees from buckling. Only his bruising grip kept me upright as he kept torturing the damaged skin.
"This is my mark," he hissed, nails digging until fresh blood welled up. "My brand on my property. Every time you look in a mirror, you see me. Every time those mongrels touch you, they're touching what's mine. You thought you could erase me? Replace me with some soldier and a street fighter?" Another cruel laugh, his tongue flicking out to taste the blood on my neck. "I'm gonna enjoy breaking them. Almost as much as I'll enjoy breaking you again."
The bond exploded—two separate waves of pure terror and rage hitting me like a freight train. Through the pain and fear, I felt Kael's ice-cold fury sharpening into something lethal, felt Jax's wild aggression slamming against his control. They'd felt my pain, tasted my blood through the mate bond, and they were coming.
My apartment door exploded inward, reinforced wood splintering like toothpicks under the combined force of two pissed-off Alpha wolves. Kael came through first, still half-dressed, his service pistol already up and tracking. Jax was right behind him, barefoot and shirtless, his eyes blazing amber-gold as he took in the scene.
Twelve elite soldiers materialized from the shadows—Ironfang's best, all in tactical black, moving like a Special Forces unit. They formed a defensive ring around Tyrant and me, weapons drawn, as more figures poured in from the hallway. I heard Alex roar from somewhere outside, heard Caspian barking orders, and then everything turned into blood and chaos.
Kael fired twice—perfect shots. One soldier went down screaming, clutching his shattered kneecap. Another dropped his weapon as silver bullets shredded his hand. But there were too many, too well-trained, and Kael had to dive behind my couch as return fire chewed through the furniture. I could feel him thinking through the bond—calculating angles, finding weak spots, coordinating with Jax without a word.
Jax didn't bother with strategy. He just shifted.
The transformation ripped through him in a heartbeat, clothes shredding as his golden wolf burst into existence with a snarl that rattled the windows. He was beautiful and terrifying—all deadly grace and raw fury, amber eyes locked on Tyrant like a predator who'd found his prey. Three soldiers moved to stop him, but Jax was already moving, a blur of fang and claw that hit them like an avalanche.
Blood sprayed across my walls as Jax's jaws closed around an arm, ripping it from the socket with a sickening pop before throwing the screaming soldier aside. He took a knife to the ribs without even flinching, using the opening to tear out his attacker's throat in a spray of red. Another tried to get behind him, but Jax spun impossibly fast, his massive paw catching the guy across the face and sending him through my bookshelf.
"Jax, no!" I screamed as I saw him take another hit, a deep gash across his shoulder that showed white bone. But he didn't stop, didn't even slow—he was a force of nature, trading injury for injury because keeping these bastards away from me was worth any price.
The door buckled again and Alex stormed through, his royal blade already bloody from whatever he'd cut through to get here. He moved like water with a sword—each strike precise and clean, his ancient fighting style turning combat into art. A soldier lunged with a knife; Alex sidestepped barely, his blade flashing once to open the guy's femoral, then again to deflect the next attack without breaking stride.
Caspian was right behind him, and where Alex was deadly grace, Caspian was a brick wall. He had a riot shield from campus security, using it to cover Alex's blind spots while his free hand swung a tactical baton with brutal efficiency. When one of Tyrant's guys tried to flank Alex, Caspian's shield caught the blow, then slammed forward to crush the soldier's chest with an audible crack.
Finn appeared in the doorway with what looked like homemade bombs strapped across his chest, his face pale but determined behind his glasses. "Fire in the hole!" he yelled, hurling one into the corner where three soldiers had taken cover. The explosion wasn't huge—more flash and noise than shrapnel—but it sent all three staggering. Kael put silver rounds through two before they recovered.
But through it all, Tyrant kept dragging me backward toward the broken window, the blade never leaving my throat even as chaos erupted around us. I felt his chest rumble with dark amusement as he watched my friends bleed for me, felt his sick satisfaction at the carnage he'd caused. His hand slid from my waist to my lower stomach, pressing down hard.
"Don't struggle, darling," he murmured in my ear, voice thick with anticipation. "Or I'll mark you right here, right now, while they watch. Want that? Should I let them see what you really are—my mate, my property, my future queen?"
His hips ground against my back in a sick mockery of intimacy. "I could take you on this floor, breed you in front of them. Let them watch you submit."