The abandoned warehouse by the Rhône river smelled of stagnant water, rust, and fear.
It was the very building the Hunters had set up as a honeypot—rigged with UV lights and silver shrapnel meant to kill a raging werewolf. But because Elara had identified the trap beforehand, Jerome’s tech team had dismantled the explosives and severed the power lines hours before the Pack ever set foot inside.
Now, the trap belonged to them.
The captured Hunter was strapped tightly to a heavy metal chair in the center of the cavernous, dimly lit room. He was bleeding from the nose, his ribs heavily bruised from Lucian’s takedown in the ballroom, but his eyes were hard. He had the cold, dead stare of a fanatic who had been trained to withstand torture.
Lucian stood ten feet away, shrouded in the sh
