Page 55 of The Reaper's Vow
My mind races, connecting dots I should have seen earlier. Karina's parents' insistence on keeping her from pack life. They weren't just protecting her from pack politics. They were protecting her from wolves who would see her bloodline as the ultimate prize.
“Even if that's true, it doesn't change anything.”
“The daughter of the only female alpha? It changes everything.”
My blood runs cold. “Lockhart will never touch her.”
“He already has someone at the compound,” Vanessa says, her smile widening. “Did you think we wouldn't have allies inside Bellandi territory? People who recognize which way the wind is blowing?”
The warehouse feels smaller by the second, walls pressing in. A raw pulse drives through me—get to Karina, now. I’ve been baited, led off while they move against her.
“You're lying,” I growl, but my wolf knows better. The constant pull I've felt all night wasn't just about protecting Karina—it was warning me of danger. Why the fuck didn’t I realize that?
“It's been...what, two hours since you left her? More than enough time.”
I don’t hesitate. The gun barks twice in my hand, each shot precise. The suit crumples first, a clean hole drilled through his forehead. Vanessa manages half a step backward before the second round tears into her throat. She staggers, clutching at the wound as blood spills hot between her fingers, disbelief etched across her features.
I'm already moving toward the exit when her strangled voice stops me.
“You...can't...save her...”
I turn back, watching dispassionately as she slides down the wall, leaving a crimson smear in her wake. “Who's inside the compound?”
She laughs, the sound wet and gurgling. “It doesn’t matter….you’re…too...late.” The last word slips out as she takes one last ragged breath before she goes still.
I don't wait for her body to cool before I'm sprinting back to my car. My heart hammers against my ribs like it's trying to escape my chest. Every second feels like an eternity as I tear through the forest, branches whipping my face, roots threatening to trip me. I don't feel any of it. All I feel is the markburning on my neck and the rising tide of panic that threatens to drown me.
Elena Rosewood's daughter. The implications crash through my mind like a wrecking ball. If it’s true, she's not just rare—she's practically royalty in our world. A bloodline that could birth the next female alpha, something that happens once in centuries.
No wonder her parents hid her away. No wonder they never told her what she was.
I slam into my car, fumbling with the keys, my hands slick with Vanessa's blood. The engine roars to life, and I'm already accelerating before the door fully closes. The tires screech against the asphalt as I take the first turn too fast, the back end fishtailing before I regain control.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I growl, pressing the accelerator to the floor. The engine whines in protest as I push it beyond its limits, but it's still not fast enough. Nothing is fast enough.
I grab my phone, dialing Elias with one hand while taking another curve at reckless speed. The call rings once, twice, three times before his voicemail kicks on.”
I try calling again, the phone slipping in my blood-slicked grip as I take another turn. Nothing. Either he's not answering, or something's already happened.
The tether in my chest pulls tight, anxiety crashing through me in waves I can’t tell are mine or hers. Her distress slices into me—sharp bursts of fear that set my wolf howling beneath my skin. She’s in danger. Real, immediate danger.
I floor the accelerator again, the speedometer climbing past ninety as I tear down the winding mountain road. The compound is still twenty minutes away at legal speeds. I'll make it in ten.
I can only hope that I make it in time because if I lose her, I will become something much worse than the Reaper. I will scorch the fucking earth to get her back.
Karina
The pain of the incomplete mark is the worst kind of addiction. A hunger that nothing can satisfy, a fire that nothing can quench. It’s only gotten worse the longer Damien is gone. An hour seems like an eternity in hell.
I sit at Damien's kitchen table, watching Elias move around the space with surprising familiarity. For the heir to a criminal empire, he seems remarkably at ease doing something as mundane as cooking pasta. The domesticity of the scene feels jarring after everything that's happened in the last forty-eight hours.
“You should eat something,” Elias says, stirring what smells like garlic and herbs into a simmering pot. “Dom will kill me if I let you starve while he's out playing Reaper.”
“I’m not hungry.” It’s a lie. I’m starving, but not for food. The fever rolling through me has sharpened to the point where even the soft cotton of my borrowed T-shirt scrapes against my skin like sandpaper.
“Cycles burn through calories fast,” Elias says, ignoring my protest. “You need to keep your strength up.”
I sigh. “How do you know so much about it? You're not...” I hesitate, unsure how to phrase the question.
