Tracy’s POV
The door slammed shut with a force that rattled the glass in the window frames. Zayne was gone, a whirlwind of alpha rage and panicked scent, leaving a trail of ozone and burnt wood in his wake. I sat on the edge of the plush, king-sized bed, my fingers digging into the expensive silk sheets until my knuckles turned white.
Oh f**k! I was trapped.
The lockdown was audible, the heavy thud of the electronic bolts engaging in the door, the muffled commands of guards repositioning themselves in the hallway. Zayne hadn't just closed the door, he had sealed a tomb. And he had left his most loyal hound behind to watch the corpse.
Chris stood by the door, his chest still heaving. He didn’t look like the calm, calculated beta who was ready to defend his Alpha that I had spent the las
