Chapter 278
Chapter 278:
Dallas
The signal from the micro-tracker in her earring died two minutes ago.
Two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds of silence that felt like a noose tightening around my neck. She is scared. She is hurt. Find her.
Ragnar, my Lycan beast, was pacing in the back of my mind, clawing at the walls of my consciousness. His roar was a constant, thunderous vibration in my chest, demanding blood. Demanding action.
“Sir, the perimeter is secured,” Vance Decker’s voice cut through the red haze clouding my vision.
𝘙𝘦с𝗼m𝗺𝖾𝗇d 𝘁о уo𝘂𝗋 𝗳𝗿i𝗲n𝗱s
I didn’t answer. I slammed the car door shut, the metal groaning under my grip, and stormed toward the entrance of The Onyx Fang. The neon sign above the door flickered ominously, casting a sickly pink glow on the wet pavement.
The moment the bouncers opened the doors, the stench hit me. It was a vile cocktail of stale beer, cheap perfume, and the distinct, sour musk of Rogues. It made my nose wrinkle in disgust. But beneath the filth, faint and trembling, was the scent that anchored my soul to the earth.
Moonflowers and rain. Adella.
But it was tainted. It smelled of terror.
I marched into the lobby, my presence sucking the air out of the room. The music died. Conversations halted. Every head turned, eyes widening as they recognized the aura of the Alpha King.
“Dallas p>
A voice, sharp with panic and indignation, came from my left. I didn’t stop, but a figure stepped into my path.
Braydon Hyde. He looked disheveled, his eyes wild, his chest heaving. The scent of his distress was pungent, mixing with the jealousy that radiated off him in waves.
“How did you know?” Braydon demanded, blocking my way to the elevators. “I’ve been tracking Volkov for weeks. How did you know she was here p>
I looked down at him, feeling nothing but cold contempt. He was a boy playing at war.
Rip his throat out, Ragnar suggested, his voice a dark purr. He failed her. He rejected her.
“Move,” I growled, the command vibrating with enough power to make the glasses on the nearby tables rattle.
Braydon flinched, his wolf submitting instinctively to my rank, but his human pride kept him rooted. “She’s my p>
I didn’t let him finish. I shoved past him, my shoulder checking him hard enough to send him stumbling back. I didn’t have time for his delusions.
Two hulking Rogues stood guard by the brass elevator doors at the end of the hall. They stepped forward, hands reaching for weapons concealed in their jackets.
“Private event,” one of them grunted. “No entry p>
I didn’t break stride. I didn’t have to.
Vance moved like a shadow. There was a sickening crunch of bone, followed by a wet thud. By the time I reached the doors, both guards were on the floor — unconscious or dead. I didn’t care which.
I jammed my thumb against the call button. The panel flashed red. Access Denied.
“Fuck this,” I snarled.