Chapter 16
“Marco…” Nana’s soft voice wavers as she takes a hesitant step forward, trying to explain herself.
His head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing with unrestrained fury. “How many fucking times do I have to remind you? I’m Alpha to you, not Marco. You dare call me by my name like we’re equals?” His voice booms, reverberating through the small room like a clap of thunder.
Nana flinches, shrinking back under his piercing glare. “I–I’m sorry, Alpha…” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Marco spits. The blade of his tone has been sharpened. “Now quit wasting my goddamn time and just tell me what you’re hiding.”
Nana’s lips flicker as her mind invents a whole multitude of random things that can bring Marco’s wrath off her. But, she finally gives in. Her mind just does not seem to want to cooperate. Frozen there, the silence only heightens Marco’s anger.
“Speak!” he yells, stalking toward her threateningly.
Before she can say anything, the door is flung open, and a patrol guard rushes into the room.
“Alpha!” the guard exclaims, slightly out of breath.
Marco’s head snaps in his direction, irritation flickering in his expression. “This better be good,” he growls, his focus momentarily shifting away from
Nana.
The guard swallows hard, clearly aware of the tension in the room. “We found the bodies of some rogues while patrolling the outskirts. They were… torn apart.”
Marco raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Torn apart? What the fuck are you talking about?”
The guard hesitates, glancing briefly at Nana before continuing. “Their heads… they weren’t attached to their bodies. And their hearts were missing.”
For a moment, the room falls silent, the weight of the guard’s words hanging heavily in the air.
Marco’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he processes the information. “That’s not just any rogue fight. That’s Lowell’s fucking signature,” he mutters, his voice low and dangerous.
The guard nods in agreement. “We also caught his scent. There’s no mistaking it–it’s definitely him.”
Nana’s eyes show a brief concern before she immediately averts them hoping no one saw that change. ‘No, please do not let him find Lowell,‘ she whispers softly to the Moon Goddess, her chest heaving with anxiety.
Marco breathes heavily, he looks ready to burst with anger but controls himself. “Bring me the men,” he says, his tone sharp and authoritative. “That bastard won’t escape us, we will hunt him down and take him right back to the fucking cave he came from.”
The guard simply bows, and then quickly exits the room, leaving Marco once again with nothing but Nana.
Marco looks at her, his eagle eyes meeting her squarely in the eye. “You don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten you,” he says with a menacing voice. “Don’t get in my way or else things are going to get ugly.”
He doesn’t even wait for her to respond; he loudly slams his feet onto the floor and goes out of the room.
Outside, Marco joins Stephen and the patrol team as they head toward the site where the rogue bodies were found. The scent of blood lingers in the air, growing stronger as they approach the area.
When they arrive, Marco’s eyes scan the gruesome scene. The bodies are mutilated beyond recognition, their heads and hearts missing, just as the guard
had described.
Stephen crouches down, examining one of the corpses. “This is definitely Lowell’s work,” he says, his tone grim.
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Chapter 16
Marco nods, his expression unreadable. “Fucking typical,” he mutters, kicking a severed arm aside with his boot.
As he surveys the area, a faint scent catches his attention. It’s faint, almost overshadowed by the stench of blood and decay, but it’s there–familiar and maddeningly elusive.
“You smell that?” he asks, turning to Stephen.
Stephen nods, his brow furrowing. “It’s strange. It’s not just Lowell’s scent. There’s something else mixed in.”
Marco takes another deep breath, trying to place the scent. It’s unpleasant, almost repulsive, yet there’s something naggingly familiar about it.
“Probably the fucking rogues,” he mutters, though his tone suggests he’s not entirely convinced.
One of the guards approaches, his face pale. “Alpha, we found tracks leading further into the forest. They’re fresh.”
Marco’s eyes narrow. “Follow them,” he orders.
The group moves deeper into the woods, their senses on high alert. Marco’s mind races as they track Lowell’s movements. He knows the Lycan prince is dangerous–too dangerous to leave unchecked.
Behind him, Nana lingers near the edge of the packhouse, her heart heavy with worry. She knows Marco won’t stop until he finds Lowell, and the thought of her mate being in danger fills her with dread.
As the patrol team continues their search, Marco grows increasingly frustrated. The tracks lead them in circles, as if Lowell is toying with them.
*Fucking coward,” Marco growls under his breath. “He’s running scared.”
Stephen glances at him, his expression wary. “Or he’s leading us into a trap,” he says quietly.
Marco scoffs. “Let him fucking try. I’ll rip his goddamn head off myself.”
Despite his bravado, a small part of him can’t shake the feeling that something is off. The faint, familiar scent they’ve been following lingers in his mind, taunting him with its elusiveness.
As they press on, Marco’s frustration reaches a boiling point. “We’re wasting time,” he snaps, turning to the guards. “Spread out. I want every inch of this fucking forest searched. Now.”
The guards nod and disperse, their movements quick and efficient, Marco and Stephen remain at the center of the search, their senses tuned to any sign
of Lowell.
Back at the pack house, Nana remains rooted to the spot, her thoughts a chaotic mess. Though she knows she should be relieved now that Marco had turned his attention to someone else and left her alone, it only makes her feel guilty that Lowell is now the one bearing the brunt of Marco’s wrath.
“This is my fault,” she whispers to herself, her hands trembling. “I brought him here…”
She closes her eyes as the thoughts swirl around her mind in an attempt to convince herself that there’s a way to warn Lowell. Even if it would have been possible, what good would such a warning do? Marco is unyielding, and once he fixes his sight on something, he doesn’t relent until the very end,
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