Chapter Twenty-seven

Lucian’s POV

I didn’t need eyes to see the room. I could feel the heat radiating off the bodies and could track the exact position of every wolf by their unique scent.

I sensed the shift in her movement as she pulled away from me and moved towards Lena. My grip on the cane tightened at the thought of her breaking my rules after I had just saved her.

But I made no move to stop her. Didn't want to seem like a possessive piece of shit.

“Look at that,” a voice drifted through the music. A whisper from the edge of the circle.

It was Raith. I recognized his voice immediately. His voice had always been too loud.

“The great Alpha can't even control his prisoner.”

Even as he spoke, I noticed it. Avery’s breathing— gone. There was no trace of her in the air anymore.

A moment ago, I could feel her there. Her uneven breath, the faint warmth of her body cutting through the space between us.

Now nothing. Just open air and the noise of the crowd. My grip on the cane tightened slightly.

Lena.

Her scent lingered faintly, drifting toward the terrace doors. Avery’s tangled with it, already fading into the night.

I exhaled once. Then I let it go. I would deal with that later.

Raith, however, had just made himself useful.

His heartbeat was steady. He believed he was safe. He thought the sound of the music would shield him from his treachery.

He was wrong.

I turned my head, my ears twitching as they locked onto the exact coordinate of Raith's position.

“Raith,” I called out, and I heard his heart skip. It went from a steady cadence to that of a wild horse.

I didn’t wait for him to move. I walked toward him, navigating the crowd as though my vision was intact, flowing through the gaps without bumping into a single guest.

I stopped inches from his face. I was taller, broader, and the shadow I cast swallowed him whole. The stale smell of alcohol hit me on his breath.

“Alpha. I am—”

“You seemed concerned about how I manage my property,” I interrupted. My gloved hand reached out, patting his shoulder gently.

“Perhaps you'd like a private lesson in management.”

“Take him to the cellar,” I commanded. “I want to know if that tongue sounds as brave when it's being pulled from his head.”

The guards moved instantly.

“You cannot do this! Get your hands off me! Scum! All of you!”

I heard him scream as he was being dragged outside.

“If you think you can threaten me, you're mistaken, very mistaken.” His words echoed down the hall.

I felt a bit of relief after what had happened tonight. I needed blood. Raith had offered himself without knowing it.

The decision had already been made. I turned away from the crowd, the music, the false laughter. Everything that pretended this night was still a celebration.

They always did that. Pretended nothing had happened. But they were listening.

The further I moved, the quieter it became. The scent of perfume and wine thinned, replaced by damp air, iron, and fear.

A muffled struggle reached me as I descended the last step. Raith was stripped and chained to the rack. I stood in the shadows, slowly peeling the leather gloves from my hands.

Raith smelled of absolute ruin. His arrogance in the hall had been replaced by real terror.

“Please…Alpha…I was drunk…I didn't mean to. Have mercy,” he cried out.

I exhaled slowly. He was starting to waste my time.

“You have a very active tongue, Raith…” I murmured, picking up a pair of heavy iron pliers from the table.

I traced the jaw of the tool, my fingertip catching on the rough jagged edges.

Then, I slid the iron into the brazier. I didn't see the change in color, but I felt the shift in the air. The heat began to press against my face. When I pulled them out, the air hissed in protest.

“...It wags when it should be still. It judges what it cannot comprehend.” I stepped into the light.

I gripped his jaw with my free hand, forcing his mouth open. He was shaking now. The chains rattled as he tried to beg for mercy, but that ended a few seconds ago.

“Stay steady, or it will be more painful.”

I pressed the metal onto his tongue.

A wet sizzle filled the air, and a burnt flesh stench rose from him. I twisted my wrist and felt it give way beneath my grip.

Then the scream came. It was a jagged, high-pitched sound that vibrated through the stone floor and up into the soles of my boots.

I tossed the scrap of flesh onto the floor. I didn't need it.

"He’s fainted," a guard muttered.

"Wake him," I said. "He hasn't paid for the 'prisoner’ comment yet."

A bucket of ice-cold water crashed over him, soaking him to the bone. He gasped, body jerking as the shock stole the air from his lungs. He jerked awake with a choked, bubbling sob.

I picked up a knife and knelt at his feet. He flinched before I even touched him.

"Ten toes, Raith," I said, tapping the tip of the blade against his shivering foot. "One for every guest who heard your joke. I wonder at which one you will stop being a wolf and start being a dog?"

I aligned the edge with the joint of his smallest toe. I didn't hack at it. I sliced it. Slowly. Feeling the blade part the skin, then the tendon, then the bone.

I didn’t rush it. Pain, when delivered properly, wasn’t about speed. It was about understanding.

I savored the way his entire body bucked against the chains. The symphony of his suffering sounded satisfying.

By the time I moved to the next, he could not utter another sound. I stood, gripping his chin. His head had fallen forward and started dangling.

That was enough. I wiped the blade clean and scrubbed the blood from my hands.

“Take him out,” I said.

I slipped my gloves back on, flexing my fingers once. Routine finished. Then I turned toward the stairs. Toward the hall.

Toward her.