Chapter Sixteen: Secrets in the Blood
1788 Words
Ethan's POV
Paul slumped into the chair, the cold metal groaning under him like bones settling in for the s*******r. His scent hit me like a primal cacophony: fresh blood oozing from open wounds, the sour tang of sheer terror sweat, and that faint undercurrent of his diluted hybrid bloodline, weak, bastard-wolf stuff that never truly felt the pull of a full moon. My lupine nose caught every layer, turning the room into a sensory hunting ground where his pain was the trail I tracked. I picked up the scalpel first, its blade glinting under the fluorescent lights like a honed fang, but set it aside, too dainty for the feast I had in mind.
"Let's talk, I swear, I'll spill everything," Paul begged, his voice shaking like leaves in a storm gale, panic rolling off him in waves that made my wolf drool.
"Don't kid yourself, Paul," I growled, grabbing the ice pick instead, the chill metal a stark contrast to the fire boiling in my veins. My wolf bayed inside me, fangs itching to break free, craving that raw tear of flesh. "I know you'll talk. But first, I'm gonna have my fun. You only need one ear to listen. Shall we fix the other?"
He thrashed, chains rattling like ancient dungeon irons, but I pinned his neck with one hand, claws digging into the soft skin, feeling his pulse rabbit-fast like cornered prey on its last dash. I pressed the pick to his ear canal, angling it to pierce just the cartilage, I wasn't rushing this kill; the hunt was all about stretching out the howl of agony. Kai handed over the hammer, and I got to work: each strike landed like paws thumping packed earth, the wet rip of flesh mingling with his guttural screams, raw and wolfish, like a dying beast under an Alpha's claws.
Hot blood trickled down the side of his face, the coppery hit, flooding my nostrils and blending with my own dominant musk, a primal victory cologne that swelled my chest. Paul writhed, body convulsing, but his eyes still held that scrap of hybrid defiance, a pride I'd snap like dry twigs.
"Can you still hear me, Paul?" I asked, my voice gravel-rough with the underlying snarl, my wolf circling his weakness like a predator scenting wounded game.
"Go... fu.ck... yourself," he spat, breathless, the sharp edge of his challenge mixing with the reek of pain, a mistake that lit my beast on fire.
"We haven't even gotten started, and you're already getting worked up," Kai mocked, clamping the pliers on his n****e and twisting slow. Paul's scream was pure music: high-pitched, shattered, bouncing off the walls like howls through a midnight woods. "You wanna talk, or keep playing Ethan's chew toy?"
"What do you want to know?" Paul whimpered, eyes rolling back like a beast on the brink, the stink of full submission taking over now, piss and salty tears.
"Broke quick, didn't he?" Tyron remarked, his sly wolf watching with gleaming eyes, sniffing out angles like fresh tracks.
I stepped back, wiping my bloody hands on a towel that smelled of antiseptic and old death, eyeing the tools like an Alpha sizing up his pack's kills. My wolf thrummed, demanding more, that deep-seated drive to rip truths from meat and turn suffering into confession. I let Kai and Daniel handle the questions; I lost myself in the torture symphony, the blood calling my beast to the table.
"Who's this Samuel?" Kai kicked off, leaning in close, eyes locked like a wolf claiming turf.
"Zacharias's son, our old boss's heir," Paul lied, the sour whiff of bullshit giving him away in a heartbeat.
"Don't lie," I snarled, closing in and jamming the pick into his other ear, twisting slow. The squelch of cartilage tearing was visceral, hot blood spilling over my hand, the metallic panic-stink thickening the air.
"The son who should've taken over from Zacharias is Ian, or one of the younger ones, Icarus or Isaiah," Daniel cut in, his strategist scent slicing through the mess. "Never heard of any Samuel."
"Ian's the rightful heir," Paul confessed, sobbing like a lost pup, body quaking. "Samuel's a bastard, that crazy son of a b***h. He slaughtered everyone and bought off the council with threats or cash to get himself legitimized."
"Where'd he come from?" Kai pressed, pliers still latched on, giving a light twist to keep the pain flowing.
"We're not sure. Lived in Nevada before he showed up in Boston to claim the throne."
The words landed like a claw to the gut. Nevada, Valentine territory, Rose's home turf. My wolf howled possessively, fangs lengthening in my head, the bond with her thrumming: her pure line, buried but calling out, had it tangled with this bastard hybrid? Her scent crashed through my mind, spicy and wild like rain-soaked woods, and the rage surged, pack-deep hunger for payback.
"Why Rose?" Daniel asked, voice sharp as a blade. "Did he know her?"
"I don't know," Paul lied again, and I growled, shoving the pick into his urethra, turning it slow. His scream was primal, echoing like a gelded wolf's wail, hot blood soaking my hand, the absolute agony reek overwhelming the room. I twisted harder, feeling tissues shred, his body seizing in death-throes spasms.
Tyron jabbed the adrenaline syringe into his neck, the sharp chemical bite cutting through the chaos, yanking him back to the hunt. His eyes fluttered, focus snapping in like revived prey.
"Don't crash out on us yet," Kai said, casual but with that wolf-edge growl. "Let's keep going: why Rose?"
"I don't know," Paul wept, tears streaming, the salty crush of total defeat. "Samuel ordered the grab, and I followed through."
"Switching gears," Daniel said, inching the pliers toward his fingers. "Why you?"
"He doesn't have anyone he trusts. Even if the Capos backed him, they don't buy in. They prepped soldiers to take him down if he starts a purge on the holdouts."
"Spell it out," Daniel urged, while I closed in, pliers in hand, the cold steel jarring against my lupine heat. "Or Ethan's pulling fingers."
"I'm loyal to Ian," Paul broke, voice cracking. "Before he bolted, he told me to fake it with Samuel and betray him when the time was right, bring the whole thing crashing down. I was just carrying out my real boss's orders."
"So you're using us for your little scheme?" Kai shot back, eyes narrowing like a wolf smelling a rat.
I gripped the pliers tighter, primal fury bubbling, me, the rising Alpha, just a pawn in some hybrid's game? Paul sneered: "No, I was gonna hand the girl over to Samuel. Didn't plan on getting caught and taking heat from you assholes and that psycho." His eyes flicked to mine in a defiant flash, the insult that sealed his fate. "I wanted you to take Samuel out."
"Samuel's a dead man still drawing breath," Tyron warned, his loyalty scent steady as stone. "And you? How about spilling on your boss's mansion layouts and supply routes? We're paying a house call. Don't forget his manpower and strongholds."
"He doesn't need fingers for that," I growled, clamping the pliers on his index. I squeezed slow, feeling meat, nerves, and bone give way, the wet snap, his raw scream ripping like eternal torment. Blood gushed, hot and sticky, feeding the monster in me.
"I warned you, Paul," Daniel said, voice even but laced with wolf. "Don't piss off Ethan."
We dragged it out for hours: questions chopped up by rounds of torment, each tool an extension of my claws, picks ripping, pliers yanking, the air thick with charred flesh and clotting blood. Paul shattered, secrets pouring like slit veins, but he held something back, that twisted loyalty hanging on like a mangled wolf.
"He's not loyal to Samuel," Daniel noted, wiping bloody hands, exhaustion scent weaving into the mess.
"His loyalty's all f****d up," Kai added, his wolf sated from the kill.
"Let's dig deeper." I called to them as we filed out of the shed. I slid into the car waiting for them, fired it up, and we headed to the ops building.
I cruised past the training gym, dropping down to the basement where I knew I'd find Simon Beline, Tyron's cousin, the best damn hacker in the compound. Pushed through his door and there he was, buried in screens, running a team. Rose's face was plastered across multiple monitors, footage of her days leading up to the snatch.
"Sir," Simon greeted.
"Need intel. Track someone down for me."
"Anything you say."
I flipped open my laptop, shoving him the pics of Samuel's face from his casino meet with Bartolomeu, pitching that alliance deal.
"Dig up everything on this guy from the last twenty years. Parents, upbringing, buddies, anything that ties his path to Rose's."
"Weird." He scratched his chin, bolted to his rig, and came back with a stack of papers. "Valentine hit me up for the same yesterday. Here's the report I sent him."
"Maybe he doesn't know who Samuel is," Kai said, scanning the sheets. "I'll hold onto this and give you the CliffsNotes."
"Find anything juicy?" Daniel asked Simon.
"Yeah, come check this."
I followed him to his desk, and Simon pulled up old park footage of a younger Samuel.
"Recognize this guy?" He pointed to the black-clad figure bundling Samuel into a car before they vanished.
"No way to ID," I said.
"Exactly, looks like he knew he was being watched. I tailed him for hours, thought I had a lead, but they swapped rides in the tunnel. Different days of the week for years, this black-suit shadow picks up Samuel at the park and ghosts. Can't pin the destination."
"Can you backtrack where he came from?" Tyron asked.
"Nah, the car pops up on cams near the tunnels, and back then security wasn't what it is now, barely any surveillance in the police feeds."
"Valentine say anything when you dropped the report?" I eyed the pages.
"Nope."
I'd half-suspected Bartolomeu knew who was after Rose, if he did, he wouldn't waste time on a deep dive like this. If he was in the dark, our enemy was slipperier than I'd figured.
"What would make a bastard new boss pick a fight with us?"
"Doesn't add up." Kai tossed the papers on the desk. "I'm heading back to the range. Catch you later."
"We regroup tomorrow," I told them, then bailed out of the building, hopped in the car, and pointed it toward the clinic. Time to see my fiancée and have a chat about Samuel. If Rose was holding out on me, I'd find ways, different ones, to make her talk.
- Writer
