Lucas
491 Words
Chapter 7
Lucas
Lucas paced the length of the office, his boots slamming hard against the polished concrete floor.
His hands curled into fists at his sides, every step radiating fury.
His vision was one color in that moment RED.
"What do you mean she's still alive?" he roared, the walls seeming to shake with the force of it.
Aiden, Lucas right hand man and the one who he sends when his lower ranking men fail him, stood stiffly near the door, trying not to flinch.
"I'm sorry, sir," Aiden stammered. "We found Nick this morning. In the alley. His neck was snapped, and the girl was nowhere in sight."
Lucas stopped, breathing hard, rage pouring off him in waves.
"I sent my best after her," he snarled. "And he failed."
He whirled around, pacing again, hands dragging through his hair.
"How is this possible?"
He had spent the last year attempting to find Alyssa, to get his revenge.
Waiting for the right moment to make her pay for what she had done to his brother.
Aiden backed away a few steps, his voice barely above a whisper.
"There's something else, sir."
Lucas froze, his head snapping toward him.
Aiden swallowed hard.
"We think... It was a werewolf that killed him. There’s a bite mark on his neck. Deep."
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy rasp of Lucas’s breathing.
A werewolf.
Of course.
This was worse than he had thought.
Much worse.
The monsters he and his brother had worked so hard to destroy.
The monsters that took everything from them, their family was killed by werewolves and there was nothing they could do about it.
The poison they had developed—designed to hollow out werewolves from the inside, to leave them alive but empty—had been their life's work, since that fateful day.
Lucas and his brother Trent had always been human.
But they understood exactly how much the werewolves valued their inner beasts—the primal, sacred part of themselves that made them more than men.
Without it, they were nothing more than hollow shells.
Ordinary. Weak.
Almost like the walking corpses in those old horror movies—alive, but empty.
That was the fate Lucas had planned for them.
Not a quick death.
Something much worse.
Lucas shoved the rest of his thoughts aside and turned to Aiden, his expression sharp and cold.
"I want Alyssa dead," he said, voice low and final. "At all costs."
Aiden swallowed but nodded quickly.
"Find out if she has a wolf protecting her. I want everything—where she goes, who she talks to, where she sleeps. And be careful," Lucas added, his eyes flashing.
"We can't afford to tip her off. Especially if there’s a wolf nearby."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"One mistake, Aiden, and it’s not just her blood that’ll be on the ground."
- Writer
