Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 198

Chapter 198

Taxon

Just when Nicolai and I have exhausted all our resources and I feel like having nothing useful to do but wait might drive me to insanity, Mikhail bursts through the office door.

“I’ve got someone I think you’ll want to talk to.” He announces, Nicolai jumping to his feet at the information.

His team picked up someone, Mikhail explains. A wolf who works the eastern waystation-a mid-level operative in Savin’s network who was trying to get ahead of the situation and got too close to the wrong part of the city. He’s in a room in the estate’s basement now.

“He knows the layout. The guards. The timing.” MIkhail grunts in his usual deep tenor. “He doesn’t want to talk.”

Something passes between him and Nicolai at those words. Something I interpret to mean Mikhail has already tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade him and is now insinuating more drastic measures are necessary.

Nicolai ushers Mikhail out the door and I leap to my feet to follow them. If this man is the key to finding my mate) I want to be front and center when he finally breaks. And with Nicolai’s reputation, I have no doubt he will break. It’s just a matter of when.

We follow Mikhail to the basement and Nicolai goes in first. I watch from the doorway as he calmly sits across from the man and explains the situation with the startling clarity of someone who has done this before and has absolutely no inhibitions about doing it again.

“You’re going to tell me where she is,” Nicolai states with an ominous certainty that sends a shiver down my spine. “The question is only how long it takes.”

“I don’t know what you’re-“The man’s attempt to lie is summarily interrupted by Nicolai’s non-existent capacity for bullshit.

“The waystation. Forty miles east of the Harlow district. Savin’s property.” Nicolai’s voice doesn’t change register. “You’ve been there. You know the rotation schedule. You know which of the guards can be bypassed and which can’t.” He leans forward slightly. “Tell me now and this conversation ends. The alternative is that we explore your commitment to Savin’s network in ways that will be instructive for both of us.”

The man’s jaw is set. He’s scared but he’s more scared of Savin than of us. For now. If the look of lethal intent on Nicolai’s face is any indication, that’s about to change.

Nicolai reads his expression the same way I do. But instead of being daunted by it, he simply shrugs as if to say, ” your funeral” and turns to me.

“You don’t have to be here for what comes next.” He offers me an exit but fuck that.

“Yes, I do,” I insist, stepping fully into the room. “She’s my mate too.”

The man looks at me-two Alphas now, and whatever he sees on my face makes his calculation shift slightly. Not enough. But slightly.

Nicolai just nods in acknowledgement of my choice and refocuses his deadly attention back on our captive. What happens next is not a situation I ever would have thought I’d find myself in..

I’ve been an Alpha for years. I’ve handled threats, managed conflict, made hard decisions. But the specific cold methodology of what Nicolai employs-I’ve heard about it. I’ve understood it abstractly.

Watching it is different.

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The first ten minutes are still in the range of pressure-Nicolai encouraging him with his fists after each refusal

respond. The sickening sound of ribs cracking reverberates through the room under one punishing blow and the man wails as he gasps for breath but doesn’t speak. The next punch, applied with just the right placement and force leaves his clavicle snapped in two, one end poking up against the skin painfully.

Nicolai rains down blow after blow on the man until his own knuckles are reduced to torn, bloody shreds, but he still doesn’t talk. Nicolai looks at me again, his hardening expression indicating what’s happened so far was child’s play and what happens next will be infinitely worse. He’s giving me a second chance to leave

“Tell me what to do,” I say instead, my own bloodlust rising with every minute of Skye’s safety this asshole. withholds from us.

Just then, the door bursts open as Mikhail wheels in a cart, the top neatly arranged with all manner of what I can only assume are implements of torture. My eyes roam over what appears to be pliers, a cigar cutter, a flaying knife and a small, handheld blow torch, to name a few. I expect to feel queasy at the idea of using these tools to torture the man in front of me, but my desperation to find Skye seems to have obliterated my moral compass. At least temporarily.

“You want to help? Fine, but you better be sure.” He warns. “Because once we start down this road, we sure as fuck aren’t stopping for your existential crisis. And there will be no undoing what you’ve done. Not ever.”

I consider his words for the span of a heartbeat. That’s all it takes to make my decision and solidify my resolve. Skye is in a room somewhere and we don’t find it without this information. Her heat is building. And the men who took her chose to take her and will have to live with whatever accountability looks like when Nicolai Woolf is the one administering it.

But in this moment, I’m accountable too. I’ve failed Skye before. I won’t fail her now.

No matter what the price.

Cara Anderson

Author

Thank you for reading!

107

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