JAYDEN
I stormed out of my bedroom, leaving Catriona breathless and needy behind me. I hated walking away from her like that, especially with my pants tight and painful from how badly I wanted her. But Jerome had mind-linked me mid-thrust, saying there was something I needed to see.
I followed his signal down to the second basement—the torture room.
He stood beside a body sprawled on the floor. A dead wolf. The look on Jerome’s face? Worried. And that was rare for him.
“Jerome, what is it?” I asked, approaching him.
He didn’t meet my eyes. “Alpha… come here. You need to see this.”
I knelt beside the body. Thick fur matted with blood, the scent of death lingering heavy in the air. But under the neck… there it was.
A mark I knew too well.
“That’s Alfredo’s crest,” Jerome said lowly.
