I heard her cleaved breaths follow me to the metal trolley. I placed down the bloodied scalpel and looked over the rest of the instruments I'd lined up.

She was lucky, I could have chosen to go with the power tool, but there was something oddly soothing about slicing across unmarred skin. 

Perhaps I'd missed my calling as a surgeon or a serial killer?

Then again,  some would already consider me a serial killer as I'd already amassed a fair few bodies in my time, but since meeting Sage and starting a family,  I've taken a back-seat to getting my hands bloody and let someone else have all the fun.  

Sage would be mortified if she could see me right now.

But even that wouldn't stop me.

Barely giving her any recovering time, I flipped back around and decided the next round of fun would come from my own hand.  Closing the space between us I curled my fingers around her delicate throat.

Counting to ten in my head. The bitch, Elaine coughed and spluttered, spit gathering in the corners of her mouth. Her face was turning a lovely shade of red; veins having broken because of the lack of oxygen. I had to smile at the desperate gasps of air; they were divine in the sickest of ways.

It was almost euphoric.

And I made damned sure she could see my sick enjoyment of her torture, my teeth on full display.

I was now thinking she wished she had taken heed of my promises.

Hadn't I been clear about what would happen when I was free of that prison she and that fucker, DuPonte had kept me in?

Not my fault she didn't take me for my word. But I guess in this day of half-truths, it's hard to believe that a son would tell his mother she would die at his hands.

I would savour that moment.

Sick? Maybe, and I searched myself for any signs of guilt—but there was none.

She deserved every fucking thing I was going to do to her... and then some.

I eased up on my grip. Wouldn't want to kill her by accident. Her death, as also promised, would come from the tearing of her stone-cold beating heart from her chest. I was eager for that moment, felt the anticipation pumping through my veins for what was to come later.

A side-long glance told me the clones were watching me in horrified silence, wandering if they would be next.

They didn't have a fucking clue who I was. Or what I was capable of. They read a file on me, most likely fooled by my pretty face, business suit, and white capped smile.

Fuck, beneath the smooth veneer beat the heart of a ruthless deviant. I believed in vengeance, justice, and retribution. All to be carried out by yours truly, of course, and that shit was usually swift and not too bloody. I mean, why mess up the carpet, yeah?

Seven had glimpsed me this side of crazy. The wanker had tried to bolt when we're getting him out of the car. Well, the boot of the car. I'd watch in amusement as smoke clouds came out his arse as he disappeared into the tree-line. Looking at Four, he just shook his head.

At least one of them had a brain.

I shifted in seconds and my wolf had him pinned on in the dirt in less than a minute. Shifting back, the moron tried to fight me until I snapped his arm and then threatened to cut his head off and shit down his bleeding throat.

His attitude change pretty damn sharpish after that and he hadn't looked me in the eye since.

And if he wanted to keep breathing, then he had better keep it that way. 

Four, on the other hand had been oddly quiet. Which was a little disappointing as it had been him I'd wanted to slice and dice more that Seven because I'd smelled Sage all over the fucker.

But I knew if I ended his life without a damn good reason, then Sage would have been pretty upset with me and I'd given her my word not to kill him. Yet. And Sage, as well as having my heart, also had my balls in her pocket, so upsetting her was never on my list of things to do.

And especially when I planned on waking her up... with my dick, when I'd finished up here.

Something else to look forward to.

"Here boss." I shifted my head to see Maddox holding out a glass of whisky.

Nice. Torture was a thirsty job.

Letting go of her throat but leaving behind a nice handprint, she started coughing and spluttering as I reached for my whisky. Glancing over my shoulder, I remembered I had set up a chair already and I strolled toward it, sitting my arse down.

I'd forgotten how tiring torturing could be. I'd been on my feet for hours. And I really needed a piss. But I kept getting distracted with just another slice here or there.  That, and you gotta appreciate a wolf's superior healing ability—yeah, not like mine, but still, not too shabby. 

At this rate, I could be here for hours yet. And both my bladder and wolf grumbled at that fact.

Taking a piss, I would have to do it soon. Letting him out—well, that would have to wait.

Maddox came to stand next to my chair, having gotten himself a drink too. He was my new Gunner of sorts. 'Mad dog' to his friends and, in fact, he and Gunner were cousins on his mother's side. And he was just as crazy, maybe even a little more so than Gunner now, since he had met his mate and adopted three kids. 

I'd been told by Pearl, Gunner was now softer than a fucking marshmallow.

But I had to smile at that because if someone would have told me Gunner's rough edges would have been smoothed out and he would actually smile at something other than killing with his bare hands, I would have called them a liar.

But I guess kids would do that to a person. You'd do anything for your kids, right?

Well, unless your name was Elaine fucking Stone.

"Take a break." I told him, knocking back the rest of the whisky.

He grunted something and turned his attention to the clones. "That's pretty fucked up, y'know." He flicked his chin up and raised his glass in their direction. "You want shut, boss—just say the word." A cruel smirk hijacked his mouth.

I shifted my gaze to them. "Nah. Not yet." Setting my glass on the floor under the chair. "You can put them back in their cells. I think I've given them enough for their imaginations to work up some pretty creative nightmares."

"I guess they've got a good reason lookin' like they might shit their pants any second." He chuckled that sinister laugh of his, that even made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

He slipped his glass on the trolley with all my fun toys on and then made his way over and behind them, hauled them both up out of the room with little effort.

I waited till they'd left the room and turned my attention back to her. She was chained to the wall. The cuffs had cut into her wrists and blood and piss decorated the floor beneath her. 

I blew out a breath, fucking stank to high heaven in here. Couldn't even crack open a window. Terrible design. But my brother had been the one to set up this place, and in all fairness, it was the first time I'd used it. It was at the far end of the estate, away from nosey young eyes, that and magic warded it.

I'd have to bleach it so much that I wouldn't be able to smell right for a week.

"Where are my manners, yeah?" Not bothering to suppress my grin. "Can I get you a drink, mother?"

Not looking up, she was probably spewing a million threats and slurs inside her head that she was just itching to say.

Finally, her eyes climbed, seeking mine. Her lashes fluttered rapidly over chocolate eyes. It was the only outward thing we shared, but hers looked almost unnaturally large and just as empty as she was.

I decided there was nothing inside this woman. She was cold as a corpse and just as fucking lifeless. Death disguised as a living, breathing thing.

But not for much longer.

I often wondered what my dad had seen in her. Yeah, she was pretty enough.

Had he ever loved her? 

They weren't mates in the true sense of the word. Not like me and Sage or my brother and his mate, Andrea.

I guess that was at least one thing my dad got right when he headed up Wolfe. He put a stop to all the pure bloodlines mating bullshit and legacies, which had dated back long before my dad's dad was a drop of sperm in my great-great-great-grandfathers nut sack.

Maybe if she had been his true mate, she wouldn't have shit all over his heart with all the men she slept with. Either way, there would be no coming back from that.

My mother was a ginormous bitch, and apparently a cum-guzzling slut, too. Too bad she hadn't choked on some of it.

I stared at her, completely unimpressed, waiting for an answer. I would give her this, she hadn't begged, sobbed or screamed—not once.

Her face went slack before contorting in anger, turning a deep purplish colour. "You're a fucking psycho! I can't believe I raised such a sick bastard?!"

I'd been called much worse. "Ouch." Placing a hand over my chest, pretending to be wounded. "That hurt."   But was she serious?  "I think you're forgetting you had fuck all to do with raising me."  Ruth did.  

Elaine had been northing short of a cruel, wicked bitch to me and my brother until we were old enough not to give a shit what she thought or wonder why she never loved us.

Her face twisted up even more. "I never wanted you, nor your brother," she spat out. "Any of you."

Tell me something I didn't know, and I imagined she stared down at me when I'd been born like she'd just been hand delivered Satan gift-wrapped in a blue bow!

"And for the record, before you die an extremely painful death, I'm not a psychopath. I'm just a beautiful man in a suit, who happens to share your DNA."

She scoffed at that. "I've changed my mind. Just fucking get on with it. Kill me already." She sneered. "If you got the balls."

Oh, taunting me now? How creative.

"I'd love to. Once you tell me what that shit-stain DuPonte was doing with the blood-sucker, yeah?"

"Don't you dare speak his name!"  And for the first time since this had kicked off tonight, emotion sailed across her face and her voice hitched.  But then it was gone as her throat moved up and down slowly. "You're not worthy of speaking his name.  None of you are."

Fuck me, I was getting bored of this shit. It would be so much simpler if me or anyone else could get inside her head and just pluck out what I wanted. Yeah, not as fun, but definitely easier.

And that was something else we shared. No one had access to our heads unless we allowed it.

Sometimes being special or different was a right pain in the arse.

But speaking of things, which were a pain in the arse. My bladder protested... again.

Fuck. I really needed to take a piss.

I got up, and her eyes went round, making me smile. She might pretend she wasn't affected, but on the inside, she feared dying. "You hang around. I'll be back." Not bothering to hide my smirk.

I was still smirking when I stepped out from the holding house into the early hours of the morning.

Fuck knows what time it was, but there wasn't a hint of the sun on the horizon but the moon wasn't out either.

Nonetheless, it felt good to be outside, but I grumbled at the fact I wouldn't make it back to the house. "Poor fucking design Zander!" I muttered about him not having the foresight of putting a toilet in there. True, there was one in each holding cell, but I'd be fucked if I was pissing in front of her or those two wankers.

I eased down my zipper and worked my dick free.

Aaah. I breathed out. Much better as the first streams wet the ground, I glanced up to the pitch-black night sky, letting my mind wander to Sage. Would she have that sexy, black lace number on? Or better yet—naked?

"You're urinating outside where anyone could see!?"

A high-pitch voice interrupted. "Fucking hell, Ruth." I jumped back, spraying piss all over the place—including my shoes.

Fuck! I liked these.

My wolf, half asleep, chuckled. I paid him no mind.

Not bothering to shake my dick, I shoved him back inside my pants, zipping up pretty damn sharpish. "And yeah, because I didn't think anyone in their right mind would wander around the woods. At night, yeah?" I flicked my eyes over what she had on.

"Christ. You're not even dressed!? What the fuck, Ruth!? You gone crazy or what?"

Her lips thinned, huffing, closing the several steps between us, and clipped me up the back of my head.

Christ. She'd hadn't done that since I was a kid. I rubbed the back of my head. "What the fuck was that for?"

"If you don't want another clip round the ear, then shush with all the swearing." She straightened her fluffy dressing-gown, securing the belt tighter before shaking her head at me. "Is she still alive in there?"

"Yeah, and if you've come to try to stop me-—"

She shook her head. "Has she talked about Drago—the vampire?"

My eyebrows scaled my hairline. "How in the hell do you know him? Drago?"

She ignored me, walking right past me, opening the door and marched inside. "Don't stand there all night, Hunter," she said, and I followed with my jaw trailing on the floor.

I didn't have a clue what was going on here.

But I was about to find out.