The Alpha's Borrowed Luna (Abigail Hayes) novel Chapter 256

Kalus

Content Warning: The following chapters contain scenes of violence leader discretion is advised.

The rage was a living thing inside me, molten and savage, burning away the weakness of the wolf’s bane. I felt my muscles strain against the restraints, testing their limits as the machines continued pumping poison into my system.

“Elowen. Her name echoed in the hollow space where trust used to be. Her face swam before my eyes- the chilling smile, the triumphant gleam. The betrayal was a physical ache, a crushing weight threatening to suffocate me. Yet, amidst the despair, a different heat ignited. Rage. Blinding, scorching rage that clawed at my insides, demanding vengeance, demanding freedom. It was a wildfire licking at these bonds, promising to melt steel and set me fre

With one violent surge, I ripped my right arm free, metal snapping like paper. The remaining restraints followed quickly, my body moving with a speed and strength I hadn’t known I still possessed.

I yanked the tubes from my arms, black liquid spraying across the sterile white floor. My legs trembled as I stood, unsteady after so many hours immobilized, but the Lycan inside me supplied the strength my wolf could not.

Footsteps approached outside–soft, careful, someone checking on the prisoner. I pressed myself against the wall beside the door, hidden from immediate view. The lock clicked, the door swung open, and Soren stepped through, his ancient face creased with suspicion as he noticed the empty chair.

I moved without hesitation. My arm shot out, hand clamping around his throat before he could even gasp. His eyes widened in shock, then bulged with raw terror as his hand scrabbled desperately towards the dagger hidden in his pocket. But my speed, fueled by pure, incandescent fury, was absolute. My fingers didn’t just crush; they dug in, tearing through the frail skin and muscle of his

neck like it was wet paper.

A wet, ripping sound accompanied the geyser of hot blood that erupted over my hand as my fingertips pierced his throat, finding purchase deep within. I felt his windpipe splinter and collapse under the force, silencing any sound he might have made into a choked, wet gurgle. His body spasmed, feet drumming wildly against the floor. Lifting him effortlessly, his useless struggles only feeding my rage, I ripped the dagger from his own pocket.

“The cursed weapon isn’t the only way to kill your kind,” I snarled, my voice a low growl thick with hate, watching the dawning horror flood his blood–filled eyes.

With two savage, hacking motions, I brought the dagger down hard against his ankles, severing his kicking feet. Bone crunched sickeningly, and fresh arcs of blood sprayed across the chamber floor as the useless appendages fell away. His silent agony was a perverse satisfaction.

Then, with a final surge of vengeful strength, I gathered his head in my other hand and twisted violently. A sickening wet crunch, the grinding of vertebrae snapping, echoed louder than a gunshot in the small space. His head lolled at an impossible, broken angle. His body conyulsed one last time, then went utterly limp in my blood–soaked grasp. The fading light in his eyes reflected nothing as centuries of arrogant life were brutally extinguished, leaving only cooling meat and pooling blood. I let the corpse drop unceremoniously to the floor.

I felt no remorse, only satisfaction. One down. So many more to go.

My victory was short–lived. I had barely reached the corridor when a gunshot rang out, the bullet tearing through my shoulder. I staggered, turning to face my new opponent.

Caleb, stood at the other end of the hall, an ancient revolver in his hand. “I see you’ve met Soren,” he said, glancing at the corpse I’d left behind. “A shame. He was the most reasonable among us.”

I lunged toward him, fueled by rage, but the brutal exertion of tearing Soren apart moments before had taken a greater toll than I

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Chapter 256

realized. A sudden, draining weakness washed through me, my strength rapidly fading just as my body betrayed me. The fingering wolf’s bane circulating in my system compounded the drain, slowing my reflexes just enough for him to fire again. This time, the bullet tore into my thigh, the mpact buckling my leg and sending me crashing down to one knee.

This should shut you down for a while, and for your sake, I hope it doesn’t kill you.” He approached cautiously, another gun appearing in his hand–this one loaded with tranquilizer darts.

The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was his grim smile

When I woke, I was in a different room, my body now suspended by chains of silver and rowan wood–materials no werewolf or Lycan could break through easily. The burning against my skin was constant, debilitating, though not yet fatal.

A door opened, and Caleb entered, his expression grim. Another figure followed behind him–a woman, gagged and bound, her head covered with a black hood.

“Who helped you out?” Caleb asked without preamble.

“Go to hell,” I spat, the words tasting like blood.

He smiled thinly, reaching for the hood covering the woman’s face. “I think you’ll want to reconsider your answer. With a swift motion, he pulled it off.

My blood ran cold. Ophelia stared back at me, her eyes wide with terror. She had been missing from my life for years, having left the pack after the conflicts with the elders. I had never expected to see her again, and certainly not like this.

“Don’t harm her.” The words came unbidden, protective instinct overriding my rage.

“Then answer my question. Who helped you escape?” Caleb pressed the barrel of his gun against her temple.

I struggled against the restraints, but the silver burned deeper with each movement. “No one. I pulled free of those chains. You always underestimated me and that is your biggest mistake.”