“She’s fine,” Chris promised as he jumped to his feet, his gaze never leaving the shifter kneeling before them.

“What are we going to do with him?” Caine asked, gesturing towards the shifter as he kicked the gun away.

“He’s mine,” Kale announced as he walked into the room, looking every bit the deadly mercenary that he was rumored to be.

Kale had the shifter by the neck and slammed against the wall before Caine could blink. When he pulled the shifter back and slammed him back against the wall he destroyed it in the process.

“You f**king dared to play me?” Kale snarled, getting into the shifter’s face.

The shifter didn’t say anything, didn’t fight, didn’t struggle, just stood there waiting for Kale to tear his throat out. Caine couldn’t help but frown at the sight before him. For someone hell-bent on kidnapping Cloe or the very least, killing her unborn child, he’d done a shitty job of it.

He’d snuck into a house filled with predators and gone after his prey with her overprotective mate in the room. If he’d been smart, he would have watched the house and waited for Cloe to leave unaccompanied before he made his move. He sure as hell wouldn’t have stopped with just one bullet. He would have kept firing that gun until he’d ensured his duty was done. Instead, the shifter had fired once, dropped his arm by his side and waited for their retribution.

“What exactly was it about my f**king sunny disposition that made you think that I would overlook being f**ked with?” Kale snarled, his voice guttural and the closest that Caine had ever seen the annoying shifter coming to losing control.

“Do it,” the shifter gasped.

“I want to know who gave the order to go after my property,” Kale demanded, making Caine frown with confusion. He shot Chris a look only to find the Sentinel looking equally confused. As far as they knew, Kale had no marked humans. He didn’t bother with humans, most of the time acting as though they didn’t exist.

“You know the answer,” the shifter bit out, meeting Kale’s silver-eyed glare with one of his own.

“Everything was a set up?” Kale demanded, looking seriously pissed.

“Yes!” the shifter hissed.

“Was it your Alpha’s idea, Brock?” Kale asked, shoving the shifter back into the wall.

“Yes,” Brock bit out, looking tortured. “Now f**king do it!’

Kale cocked his head to the side in an appraising manner as he studied the shifter. “Why the rush to die? Do you fear that your Alpha will do worse to you for failing?”

“He will do worse if I live,” Brock bit out.

Frowning, Kale looked down. Caine followed the shifter’s gaze and swore when he saw the mated mark on Brock’s wrist.

“He threatened your mate?” Kale concluded, returning his attention to Brock.

Brock looked away as he answered, “Yes.”

“Any children?” Caine found himself asking.

“No,” Brock croaked, looking miserable. “We’re not allowed to have children in our Pack.”

Meaning that there was a good chance that this man’s mate had been forced to endure an abortion at least once. Pack life could be seriously f**ked up, especially with an Alpha sick enough to mark a fourteen-year-old girl, Caine thought with disgust.

“Either kill me or let me go so that I can go to her,” he demanded, meeting Kale’s glare once more.

“No,” Kale said, shaking his head as he stepped back, keeping his hold on the shifter’s neck until he was an arm’s length away. He dropped his arm away only to swing the other one, hitting the shifter in the side of his head and knocking him out with a punch that sent him flying back, slamming him into what remained of the wall. He dropped to the ground without a sound.

“Lock him up,” Kale said, turning his attention to Christofer.

“What’s the plan?” Chris asked, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket as he knelt down next to the shifter and secured his hands behind his back.

Kale leaned over and yanked the knife out of Christofer’s back, a mistake that Caine had no doubt they would all pay for and soon, and looked up and met Chris’ questioning look and simply said, “Revenge.”


It’s about f**king time.

He leaned back, preparing to savor the moment when his bitch was brought back to him. When he caught her scent breaking through the stale scents left over by the hotel room’s many occupants over the years and the blood of the bitch who’d had the misfortune of being left with him, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His c**k began to stir, preparing for the night ahead when he caught another scent, one that had his eyes opening and a curse forming at the tip of his tongue.

“Hello,” the bastard said with an amused smile just as Aidan registered the feel of cold steel pressing against his throat, a reminder of the bullshit that he’d been forced to go through to find his bitch.

Aidan chuckled, uncaring that the move caused the sharp edge of the knife to press into his skin and draw blood. “Figured it out, did you?” he asked in a bored tone as he reached back and scratched his head, wondering if this meant that his Beta was dead.

He looked past the shifter perched on the edge of a chair next to him and shrugged when he spotted the pale, bloody hand hanging over the side of the bed. At least he didn’t have to worry about coming up with a half-assed excuse as to how he’d killed the stupid bitch. Not that he had worried about upsetting his Beta when he’d been f**king the bitch. He’d been trying to work off some of his excitement at having his property back with the willing bitch. When she’d started moaning his name as he sank his claws into her back he may have gotten a little carried away.

Kale followed his gaze and shook his head with disgust as he pressed the edge of the blade more firmly against his throat. “The Beta’s mate?” he asked, returning his attention to him.

“Got carried away,” he said, fighting back a yawn.

“You seem to have a problem with that,” Kale mused, his attention focused on the knife at his throat.

“You mean the bitch?” Aidan asked with a dark chuckle. “Is that what this is about?”

Kale shook his head slowly. “No, this is about something entirely different than how a sick f**k gets off.”

“Then tell me, Kale Quinn,” he said mockingly, “what is this about?”

“Revenge,” Kale said, stepping back and taking the knife with him.

“Revenge?” he asked, his lips twitching with amusement as he watched the notorious Kale Quinn sheath his knife and lean back against the wall.

“Mmmmhmm, revenge,” Kale said, folding his arms over his chest, looking as though he was settling in for a show.

“And what exactly are you getting revenge for?” Aidan asked, leaning back in his chair, deciding that he could spare a few minutes and perhaps get a few answers before he ripped the bastard apart for interrupting his night.

“Where’s my Beta?” he asked, drumming his fingers against the cracked armrests of his chair.

“Preparing to become the Council’s bitch,” Kale said in an offhanded tone.

“And my bitch?” he asked, chuckling at the murderous look the mutt shot him.