The Alpha's Borrowed Luna (Abigail Hayes) novel Chapter 259

Kalus

The cell door exploded inward with a deafening crack, splintered wood flying across the chamber. Through the cloud of dust emerged Frost, his normally composed features twisted into a mask of cold fury, Blood streaked his face, his clothing torn and singed, but the gun in his hand remained steady–pressed firmly against Caleb’s temple.

“Free him,” Frost commanded, his voice deadly quiet as he forced the elder to his knees.

I could barely believe my eyes. My loyal Beta had somehow found me in this labyrinth of horrors, fighting his way through whatever defenses the elders had established. My mother’s body still lay where Caleb had left her, her blood congealing beneath my silver chains, a constant reminder of what I’d lost.

Caleb’s ancient eyes narrowed, calculating. “The Lycan is too dangerous to-

Frost drove the barrel of the gun harder against his skull, cutting off his words. “The chains too. Now.”

The elder’s lips curled into a mirthless smile as he slowly reached for the key hanging at his belt. “You think this changes anything? You’re all already dead.”

With deliberate slowness, he unlocked the silver manacles binding my wrists. The relief was immediate, like fire being extinguished, though the burns remained–raw and blistering. As he reached for the rowan–wood restraints around my ankles, I caught the subtle shift in his posture, the almost imperceptible tensing of muscles.

“Let him go, Caleb; it’s me you want,” I said, drawing his attention back to me.

“You are right,” Caleb admitted, fingers hovering over the lock. Then, with speed belying his ancient appearance, he twisted violently, one hand striking upward at Frost’s gun while the other produced a hidden blade from his sleeve.

Frost fired, but Caleb’s movement had already disrupted his aim. The bullet tore through the elder’s shoulder instead of his head. In the next instant, Caleb’s blade slashed across Frost’s forearm, drawing a hiss of pain as the gun clattered across the stone floor.

“But I want him dead too,” Caleb finished, his wound already beginning to heal as he squared off against Frost.

They collided with bone–jarring force, trading blows with supernatural speed. Frost fought with the controlled precision I’d always admired, each strike purposeful despite his injury. But Caleb had centuries of experience, his movements economical and brutally

effective.

I strained against my remaining restraints, the rowan wood burning against my skin, sapping my strength even as I pulled with every ounce of power I could muster. The wolf’s bane still circulating in my system made my vision swim, my musclés responding sluggishly to my commands.

Frost slammed Caleb against the wall, momentarily gaining the upper hand. Blood streamed from a gash across the elder’s cheek, but his eyes showed no fear–only cold calculation. With a quick twist, Caleb reversed their positions, his hand closing around

Frost’s throat.

“Did you really think you could defeat an elder, Beta?” he hissed, lifting Frost effortlessly off the ground with one hand. Frost’s face immediately flushed a deep red, straining against the hold. He gritted his teeth, gathering what strength he had, and swung a clenched fist towards Caleb’s abdomen. With contemptuous ease, Caleb caught the blow mid–swing. Then, his other fist slammed hard into Frost’s chest – thump – driving the air from his lungs in a choked gasp. “I was killing wolves,” he continued, seemingly unperturbed as Frost wheezed, “when your ancestors were still howling at the moon.”

The sight snapped something vital within me. Frost, gasping, fading. My mother, a tragically still form beneath my feet. The violation screamed louder than any physical pain. Grief warred with fury, and then, something deeper, older, answered the call. The wolf within, long suppressed by poison and will, surged against its chains. A searing flood of adrenaline – raw, potent, born of

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Chapter 259

desperation – momentarily burned away the toxin’s grip, replacing aching weakness with an unfathomable, terrifying power.

It coiled in my muscles, hot and feral. A roar tore from my throat, a sound of pure anguish and rage. I threw myself against the restraints, not merely straining, but rending. Wood shrieked, fibres tearing, then exploded outwards.

The elder staggered, his grip on Frost loosening just enough for my eta to drive a knee into his abdomen. As Caleb doubled over, Frost pulled the knife from his boot and lunged toward me, slashing at the remaining restraint.

“We need to move,” he urged, supporting me as I rose on unsteady legs.

Caleb recovered quickly, circling us with patience. “Touching teunion he mocked. “But ultimately futile. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew a small device from his pocket, his thumb hovering over a red button. “In every single room, I had planted a bomb; all I need to do is press the button, and everything would go boom‘; everyone in this building would die, and I alone would be left. After a while, you will be forgotten, but for me, I’ll take over from you; I will be known and feared all round the world.”

Frost tensed beside me, preparing to lunge, but Caleb was already pressing the button. A distant explosion shook the building, dust and small fragments of stone raining from the ceiling.

“That’s just the beginning,” Caleb taunted, his smile widening. “A small taste of what’s to come.”

With unexpected speed, he hurled a nearby chair at us, using the distraction to dart through the doorway. Frost moved to pursue but stumbled, a fresh wave of blood staining his shirt–evidence of injuries more severe than he’d let on.