Page 126 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
The evening air is cool against my skin, but it does nothing to calm the rage burning in my chest. As we start toward the tree line, I can feel my control slipping. The careful mask I wear, the one of the composed prince everyone expects, is cracking.
“Lucian,” Seth’s voice comes from behind me. “We need to think about this strategically. If it really is the Tashina family, rushing in without a plan—”
“There is no strategy.” My words come out flat, final. “There is only getting my mate back. And punishing whoever is responsible.”
“And then what? You can’t just tear a member of one of the most powerful noble families in the kingdom into pieces. Not without consequences.”
I stop walking. Seth and the witch nearly collide with me as I turn to them, and whatever they see in my face makes them both flinch.
“Watch me.”
The words sound soft. Conversational. But they carry the weight of a royal decree. This isn’t bravado or empty posturing. This is the promise of a future king who has the power to make good on every threat.
“If Zari has taken my mate,” I continue in that same quiet tone, “if she has lain so much as a finger on Astra, I will burn the entire Tashina family to the ground. I’ll make their deaths so brutal that people will tell stories of this day for generations.”
Seth opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.
“She thinks she knows me. Thinks she understands what she’s dealing with.” A cold smile curves my lips. “She thinks I’m a civilized prince who follows the rules and plays political games.”
The witch makes a small noise that sounds like fear. Good. He should be afraid.
“But she made one critical error in judgment,” I say, starting to walk again. “She touched what’s mine.”
We move through the darkening forest in silence after that. Each step takes me further from the inn where I last held my mate, further from the place where her scent still lingers. But each step also brings me closer to the moment when I can start hunting.
The bond between us still pulses in my chest, telling me that she’s alive, that she is still breathing somewhere in this world. But underneath that reassurance, I can feel something else through our connection. Fear. Confusion. The sharp edge of panic.
My hands clench into fists. Whatever they’re doing to her, whatever games they’re playing, she’s suffering for it. And that suffering is going to be repaid tenfold.
An hour passes. Then another. The witch guides us through dense undergrowth and over rocky terrain, following some invisible path that only he can sense. My patience wears thinner with every passing minute.
Finally, he stops at the edge of a small clearing. “Here,” he says, already beginning to weave the portal spell. “The wards are weak enough here that I should be able to break through.”
This time, the magic holds. Golden light spirals in the air, expanding into a shimmering gateway that shows the familiar stone walls of the capital’s portal chamber.
“After you, Your Highness,” the witch says, stepping aside.
I pause at the threshold, looking back in the direction we came from. Somewhere out there, my mate is waiting for me. Somewhere out there, the woman who dared to take her thinks she has won.
Zari has no idea what’s coming for her.
The portal closes behind us with a sound like breaking glass, and I’m already moving toward the exit. Seth jogs to keep up with my long strides.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To pay a visit to the Tashina estate.”
“Lucian, wait—”
But I’m done waiting. I’m done being patient and diplomatic and reasonable. Someone took my mate, and they’re about to learn exactly why that was the worst mistake of their miserable lives.
By the time this is over, Zari will understand what it truly means to cross the future king. And if she has harmed one hair on Astra’s head, she will pray for the mercy of a quick death.
A mercy I have no intention of granting.
Blood coats my hands. My arms. The front of my shirt where arterial spray caught me as I tore out that guard’s throat with my bare fingers.
The Tashina estate’s main hallway is a gallery of carnage. Bodies litter the marble floor—servants who tried to flee, guards who thought their loyalty meant something. The white stone walls are painted red now, abstract patterns that speak of violence and rage.
