Shadow Pride

Chapter 7 Gabriel A Scent of Mate

The sun hasn't even crested the horizon when Aiden's command reaches my ears. Sharp. Urgent. I push off the cold, hard floor where I slept, muscles protesting as I rise. My limbs are heavy with the burden of another night spent under the watchful eye of the pride, another night without word from the missing females.

Two months. Two entire months since the first four were sent away. And a month since the last four were sent, their fates a void of silence. The prides we sent them to are like black holes, swallowing any hope of news. It gnaws at me, this not knowing. Their absence is a wound on the pride's body, festering, unspoken, but felt by all.

I stride through the dimly lit corridors, footsteps echoing in the stillness of early morning. The air is cool and carries the faintest hint of dew. Outside, the world is waking up, but inside these walls, it feels like time is holding its breath.

Aiden's office door looms ahead, the wood solid and unyielding. I knock once, a formality between predator and prey; I am one and he is the other.

"Enter," comes his voice, muffled but ever commanding.

I step into the room, senses on high alert. The scent hits me first, a sweet, earthy aroma that invades my nostrils and spreads through me like wildfire. My lion stirs, shaking off the lethargy with a suddenness that sets my heart racing. He's awake, more awake than he's been in years, his presence a roaring force at the back of my mind.

"Gabriel." Aiden's voice slices through the haze. "Pay attention."

I focus on him, on those unnerving green eyes that seem to glow with an inner light. But it's a struggle, with my lion pacing, restless and eager within the confines of my mind.

"Sorry, Alpha," I manage, my voice rough as though I haven't used it in days, lowering my eyes to the ground in submission.

"Good," he says, a sharp nod. "Now listen closely."

I do. I always do. But part of me is elsewhere, tuned to the rhythm of my own heartbeat, to the shifting energy of my lion who has just scented something potent, something vital.

"Gabriel," Aiden snaps again, and I switch my focus from the incredible scent back to the threat in front of me. "Are you even listening?"

"Yes, Alpha," I reply, tone flat, betraying none of the storm raging within.

"Good," Aiden says, satisfied for now. “Come, we have work to do.”

I follow him down to the basement, the metallic scent of fear hammers at my senses, suffocating and thick. I stand in the corner of the dimly lit room, my heart a prisoner to the relentless pounding of a silent drum. Aiden's rage is a palpable force, an electric current that charges the air with dread.

"Where is she?" Aiden snarls, each word a whip-crack against the strained silence.

Across from him, Lacy's parents are shadows of themselves, hollowed out by terror and pain. Their eyes, haunted pools reflecting some distant, unreachable torment, flicker briefly towards me before dropping to the ground.

"We told you," her father's voice cracks, a dry leaf against the storm. "We don't know."

Aiden's hand lashes out, fast as a striking serpent, and the sharp sound of flesh against flesh echoes in the room. Her mother stifles a sob, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"Gabriel." Felicity’s whisper is almost inaudible, but it cuts through the tension, finding me unerringly in my darkened alcove.

I chance a glance at her. Her eyes, fierce and bright, lock onto mine. They plead silently for something—anything—that might be salvation.

I wrench my gaze away, back to the unfolding horror. Aiden looms over them, a dark deity demanding tribute.

"Again," he commands. "Where is your daughter?"

"Please," her mother whispers, a broken prayer. "We really don't know."

I can see the lie shivering on their lips, a frail defense against the inevitable. It's a desperate act of love, a final stand to protect their child from Aiden's reach.

"Enough," Aiden growls, his patience threadbare. He turns his back on them, dismissing their suffering with a cruel indifference. His eyes find mine, green flames in the gloom.

"Make sure they're fed," he orders, voice cold and detached. "And clean this up."

"Yes, Alpha," I respond, my voice a stranger's in my own ears.

As Aiden strides out, his presence lingers like a stain. In the heavy quiet that follows, Felicity moves closer to me, her proximity a dangerous comfort.

"Gabriel," she breathes, her voice a tremor. "What will we do?"

"Survive," I murmur, the word a blade hidden in velvet. "For now, we survive."

Our fates are entwined, a bond stronger than most siblings, a bond grown of trauma that throbs between us. But for all the power it holds, it's a fragile thing, easily shattered by the monster who rules our lives.

"Be strong," I tell her, though it's a command I give myself. "We'll find a way."

Felicity nods, a warrior's resolve steeling her delicate features. Together, we turn to face the aftermath, the rebellion within us growing stronger with every breath.

I kneel beside them, the metallic scent of blood heavy in the air. Their bodies are broken but their spirits, unyielding. Eyes flicker between them, a silent conversation. I catch it—the fear, the defiance. It's a dance of glances they've mastered, a language of desperation.

They know something about Lacy's flight from this gilded cage.

"Gabriel," Felicity whispers, her voice barely reaching me above the stench of suffering. "Did you see that?"

I nod, subtle. "They're hiding her trail."

"Good." Her eyes hold a storm of emotions, but relief is there, a silver lining. "She might be safe then."