Chapter 15: 15: Unveiling the Truth

MAX

It’s been forty-eight hours since the attack. The two rogues are still our captives, confined in our underground cell.

We’ve withheld food and water, but we’ve given them time to heal. This isn’t out of compassion, but so we can extract more information from them through further torment.

Melanie woke up last night, still weak from her blood loss. She’s recovering and should be released from the hospital tomorrow.

Beck has been a constant figure at her bedside, visiting her multiple times a day. He’s been apologizing over and over for not getting to her before the rogue hurt her.

She can’t comprehend why he feels at fault, but he’s clearly weighed down with guilt for not safeguarding her. Each time he tries to justify, I just shake my head.

I should have done more too.

My father and I make our way to the dungeon. He wants to teach me some restraint when it comes to torture.

He believes my anger often clouds my judgment, leading to a swift death rather than a prolonged suffering. I know he’s right.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to rip them apart.

As we enter the room where the two rogues are still hanging by their wrists, we see they’re both awake. The larger one on the right, my father had cautioned, would be harder to break.

He barely winced when my father and Jackson were inflicting pain on him. I glance his way, pondering the various ways I could make him talk.

I observe my father take charge, remaining silent for now. “So, have you boys decided to talk yet? Or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” Sebastian asks, unsheathing the silver dagger strapped to his thigh.

It’s the same dagger they’ve had the misfortune of meeting before. I watch as the rogue on the left swallows hard but remains silent.

His eyes are wide, almost popping out of his head. The other one remains stoic, not even a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

~Interesting~, I think to myself. He must have some stake in this, otherwise why would he be so determined to stay silent?

My father approaches the rogue on the left. “What’s your name?” he asks.

The rogue looks puzzled. He glances at his friend, who remains expressionless.

“Why?” he finally responds.

My father shrugs. “I just like to know. We’re going to be spending some time together. I’d like to know what to call you besides shit head.”

He smirks at the rogue. “So what’s your name?”

“Zander.” As he answers, his friend next to him groans and rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed.

“Zander. Okay. So Zander, do you know who I am?” he asks.

“I think so,” is his whispered reply. “The alpha?”

“Hmmm. The alpha.” My father nods. “Yes, that I am. But perhaps you’ve heard of me. I am Alpha Sebastian Moon of the Ridge Mountain Pack.”

He steps toward Zander, who now has a look of recognition on his face. Of course, he knows that name.

My father is infamous for his ruthlessness toward his enemies.

I glance over at the other guy. He’s now staring at the floor, as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

I walk toward him. “And you? Your name?” I ask.

He glances up at me briefly, then looks back to the floor without uttering a word. Impatient to get this started, I slam my fist into his nose.

The sound of breaking bone echoes through the room, as blood gushes from his nose. “I will only ask once more. I’m not as patient as my father,” I warn him.

“Your name.” He spits blood from his mouth. It lands on my shoe.

This infuriates me. Without a second thought, I deliver a roundhouse kick to the side of his head and he passes out.

~Weak~ is all I can think as I shake my head and step back. Turning back to my father, I see he’s moved over to his table of tools, each one designed to inflict pain in the most horrific ways.

I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his knife or any of his devices.

Sebastian steps forward toward Zander. He’s holding a small metal pick, similar to an ice pick, but smaller.

“So Zander, I’m going to give you a choice here. You can tell me why you attacked my pack members and who told you where to find them, or I can give you a little taste of my toy here.”

He holds up the little pick so that Zander can clearly see it. Zander looks at it and shakes his head no.

“Ok then.” Sebastian turns to yell at one of the guards, to bring him a chair.

Without needing further explanation, the guard knows exactly which chair he’s referring to. He’s been one of the prison guards for decades.

I’m surprised the old wolf hasn’t retired yet.

A minute later, he brings in a solid metal chair that has chains on the legs. There are anchors on the floor to secure it too.

This prevents the person sitting on it from moving the chair in any direction, and from rising up. The guard secures it to the floor and then releases Zander’s arms by lowering the chains from the ceiling, just enough that he can pull him down to sit in the chair.

Pushing him back into the chair, he secures his legs to the chain with shackles. Sebastian nods and the guard steps outside the door.

Sebastian walks up to Zander, and without a word, he pushes the pick underneath the nail bed of one of his fingers. Zander screams out in pain and the pick is pulled out and inserted under another finger.

Sebastian continues to do this over and over while Zander screams in agony. Since his arms are above his head, blood has started to drip down his hands and onto his face.

It mixes with the salt of his tears, making him look like something out of a horror movie.

Sebastian walks around the front, flipping the pick through his fingers like one would a coin. He doesn’t seem to notice the blood on his hands, as he stares at Zander.

“Do you want more of that?” he asks. Zander shakes his head no.

“Very well. Give me something.” Zander gives him an answer that enrages my father, and I watch as the vein in his neck bulges out with his restraint.

“We were to take the pack princess. Preston was in charge of getting her. I don’t even know who she is,” he whimpers.

“Who the hell is Preston,” my father grinds out.

“He is,” Zander tilts his head toward his still unconscious partner.

“Why were you going to take my daughter? Who wants her?” His voice comes out as a growl.

“I don’t know,” he whimpers.

“Not the right answer,” my dad declares. He strides over to Zander, seizes his dagger, and thrusts it into his abdomen.

He gives it a twist before yanking it out. It’s a clean hit to the liver, and blood starts to gush from the wound.

Zander lets out a scream of pain, his face turning ghostly white. Sebastian lands a punch to his throat, and Zander sucks in a ragged breath before losing consciousness.

I can’t help but admire my father’s strategy. The pick under the nails is one of the most excruciating things, yet it doesn’t cause much bleeding or death.

But a stab to the liver? That’s a different story. If he wasn’t a wolf, he’d probably be dead by now.

He might still die.

I pivot toward my father. “What’s next?” I gesture toward the two unconscious rogues.

You can’t interrogate or torture someone who’s knocked out.

He tosses the pick onto the table, wipes his blade on his pants, and heads for the door. “We wait for them to wake up, then we come back and try to get some information out of Preston,” he says, pointing to the guy I knocked out earlier.

With a sigh, I trail after him.

BECK

“I can’t wrap my head around it. Why would anyone want to kidnap Melanie? How could anyone outside the pack even know who she is?” he questions the alpha.

“That’s the thing, someone must have leaked information from within the pack,” Alpha Sebastian says, glancing at his beta, Jackson.

“What about Carter? I thought he said he had some useful information. Did anyone follow up on that?”

I shift uneasily in my chair. We haven’t seen Carter since the incident.

It’s worrying that he’s basically vanished. His scent ends on the trail that leads from one of the roads to a cluster of houses near the area where most of the pack lives.

It’s been two days now, and his scent is practically gone. “We followed his scent. It ends near one of the houses where a warrior lives. We questioned them, but they say they haven’t seen him.”

“Who’s the warrior?” Alpha Sebastian asks me.

I glance at Max, knowing he’s going to find this whole situation strange. We haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet.

“It’s Patrice’s house,” I say, watching confusion flicker across Max’s face. Then something clicks, and he turns his head sharply toward my dad and the alpha.

“We need to go back there,” Max insists. “I don’t trust Patrice. I wouldn’t put it past her to know something.”

“Why do you think that?” I ask, intrigued. I know Patrice has been pursuing Max, but I never thought of her as untrustworthy.

Max seems deep in thought, his mind visibly working. “First, she deliberately hurt Madison during training. That’s Melanie’s best friend. She didn’t show any remorse.

She’s been following me, and I’ve had several encounters with her where she’s practically thrown herself at me. I’ve been telling her for years she doesn’t stand a chance.

Lastly, she skipped training a few days ago. When Connor asked her about it, she said she had business in town. She didn’t give any details, and she never asked for leave from training.

We brushed it off, thinking it was a personal matter.”

The alpha looks thoughtful, his forehead creased with worry. My dad stands up and signals for me to follow.

“We need to look into this more,” he says. I nod and get up.

“Wait,” the alpha interrupts. “Max, go with them. Get a tracker and be careful. If Patrice or Carter is involved, we can’t just barge in. Keep it low-key.”

The three of us leave the alpha’s office, hoping to make sense of this new information. Max grabs a tracker from the pack house dining room, and we head toward the neighborhood where Patrice lives.

We approach from the back, where we’re less likely to be seen. Her house is at the very end of the last row, its back facing the woods.

This makes it easy for us to sneak up, but it also provides an easy escape route for her. Evan, our tracker, signals for one of us to join him.

He’s found a syringe near where Carter’s scent ends. I watch as Max picks it up and sniffs it.

His eyes widen, and he mind-links us to stay quiet. ~“This syringe had wolfsbane in it.”~

Evan then points to drag marks partially hidden by leaves near Patrice’s house. We exchange glances.

This doesn’t look good for Carter. Did he stumble onto something and get attacked?

We spread out to cover the back door, blocking her escape, while Max heads to the front. My dad and I stand guard at the back, and Evan watches the bedroom window, the only other obvious exit.

I press my ear to the door and slowly turn the handle—it’s unlocked. As I crack the door open, I hear someone talking.

There’s no other voice, so they must be on the phone. “It’s not my fault it didn’t work out. What do you want me to do, Jason? I’ve put myself on the line for you. Family or not, this is getting dangerous for me.”

She falls silent for a moment, presumably listening to a response. “Ok, fine. What am I supposed to do with this guy?”

I look at my dad, his eyebrows raised. Max mind-links us that he overheard the conversation and urges caution.

My dad and I exchange a look, then silently swing the door open and step inside. At the same time, Max knocks on the front door.

The voice inside falls silent, then says, “I have to go.”

The front door opens. “Max! Are you here to finally take what I’ve been offering?” Her voice is laced with a smile.

“No. I’m here to kill you.” The next sound I hear is a body hitting the floor, followed by silence.