54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

W hen Jackson opened his eyes, he was in a dank, dark little room.

His wrists were bound by chains suspended on some contraption on the ceiling, and his shoulders were on fire because they were supporting his weight. His fingers were numb and cold because the fuckers had chained him too tightly.

Was this how he died then? In the hands of his enemy, months before he held his child?

He felt lightheaded from the lack of circulation in his body. He tugged at the chains to test them out but could barely move his arms. It was the arrow that had weakened him. He could feel the dark magic burning through him as it had the other times, but this time he could still feel Cain.

Maybe the magic wasn't as strong this time. His beast was weakened, but he was already working hard to heal them. Still, he didn't see them getting out of this anytime soon. He was too weak to even command anyone to release him.

He looked at his feet and tried to wiggle his toes, but they were swollen. Both his feet were chained to the floor, spread wide open like his arms. And because he was naked, that wasn't a great position to be in. Not in a torture chamber, anyway.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he looked at the rusty-looking tools lined up on a table and along the wall on the other side of the room. Dread filled him at the thought of where some of those tools would be used.

Ryker's torture chamber. He'd heard stories about it that had impressed his depraved mind. But that wasn't how he had planned to get acquainted with the room. Maybe it was Karma because he'd strung up a bunch of kids in a similar way not too long ago, and they weren't resistant to silver as he was.

There was movement outside the room that he could barely make out. His senses had dulled so much that he felt almost human. Whoever was on the other side of the door must have been waiting for him to wake up because less than a minute later, he heard keys jiggling in the door and heavier footsteps approaching.

The light switch clicked on, and a bright spotlight aimed at his face made him squint his eyes.

"Ah! The mighty Alpha King," a deep voice said, excitement lacing every word. "How nice of you to drop by, Your Highness."

He could barely see, but he knew Ryker's voice.

"You know I'm your fucking King, yet I'm in chains."

"You're no king of mine," Ryker growled. "Besides, it looks like the chains aren't bothering you at all. How intriguing."

He never advertised what he was capable of. Those who knew usually found out on a battlefield, and they never lived to tell tales.

"You know, this brings back so many memories. I once had your father in this room, but he shit his pants before I even touched him. I can see why you killed him. He was too weak to be anyone's Alpha, never mind a king."

He growled at the insult but the Alpha just laughed. The only thing that had weakened his father was the loss of his mate, and Ryker had taken advantage. Richard's blood was as strong as any king before him. When his father had freed himself, he'd slaughtered half of the Night Walkers, even in his weakened state. Ryker was lucky that was where his father's revenge ended.

There was a loud scraping noise across the concrete floor. Ryker was pulling one of the chairs over to him.

"Switch that off; I want him to see me first," he said to someone.

The spotlight came off, only a dim light remaining. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw Ryker's amused face as he sat with his feet crossed in front of him. Ryker was a big man, bigger than he was. He had scars across his face from all his battles that made other wolves shrink back in fear. Only something truly horrific could cause scars on a wolf, and this one had lived through many of them.

His jet-black hair was long and unkempt, and his beady black eyes matched his soul. Cain would have had a worthy opponent had the battle been fair.

"You know, I thought that little witch was shitting me," Ryker mused. "But here you are, weakened and worthless, just as she said."

So he'd been right. The witch had gotten nowhere with Kendrick's and Braxton's packs, so she's chosen his biggest enemy.

"Don't tell me you allowed that woman to make you her bitch," he said. "It didn't end well for the other packs she tried it with."

"She didn't hold a gun to my head," Ryker chuckled. "She told me some juicy tales, and I was intrigued. And she's delivered you to me as she promised. Now I just have to wait for you to die on your birthday."

"You're going to keep me locked up for three months?" he laughed. "I guess I could use the holiday. It will be nice just to rest. And then the day after my birthday, when you realise you've been sold a load of shit, I'll slaughter you all. I'm not my father; I won't offer you mercy."

That was worrying. Layla was not too far away; the bond would make her do something stupid if he stayed away too long.

"She weakened you; you're here. That part isn't bullshit. I could rip your head off right now," Ryker snarled. "You can't even fight off a pup in your state."

And that was painfully true. He was still nowhere close to healing.

"Speaking of pups..."

He stilled. Cain stopped what he was doing and paid attention. A smirk formed on Ryker's face as he uncrossed his legs.

"A little birdy told me we're about to welcome the next generation of your wretched bloodline. The scourge of all our kind."

He remained silent. It was one thing to play games with his life; he was dying anyway. It was another to threaten his unborn child.

"His human mother is quite something, isn't she? I sent someone to check on her," Ryker continued. "I was just being neighbourly and concerned for her welfare, but I was told she's recovering now. That was very rude of you, by the way. Moving so close to me without telling me. I could have brought you some pie to welcome you to the neighbourhood."

Recovering?

Fury, white and hot, burned through every cell in his body in an instant. It burned the magic that was still trying to bind to him. It mixed with his fear for Layla's life and took on a life of its own. His beast rose and fed on it, fed on all the things that he kept hidden in the depths of his dark soul.

"Still, this turned out better. I'll get rid of your bloodline once and for all. The world will be a better place without an abomination like you."

The red haze filled his vision, and a warning growl came from the darkest depths of him. Ryker stilled as if he had noticed what was happening. And then he rose so quickly that the chair crashed back into the table behind him.

"You won't win this one, Jackson King," Ryker growled as he rushed to the table and picked up a sharp axe. "‘I'll chop you down first and then your bastard kid."

He clenched his fists and felt the blood start to flow in him. Cain took control of him and pulled one arm down, ripping it from the ceiling before he flung it around Ryker's neck like a lasso. The Alpha swore and dropped his axe to remove the silver from his skin.

The smell of burning flesh filled the room.

And the scent of fear.

He took a deep breath to savour it as he pulled the other arm down. He whipped the chain down Ryker's back just before the Alpha reached for another tool.

"You fucking bastard," Ryker hissed.

"Alpha!" someone shouted from outside. "Shall we come in?"

"No!" Ryker ordered.

Pride. There was no one prouder than Alpha Ryker. He was too proud to bow to a king, so he settled his pack on the fringes of society, where he was a law to himself. He was too proud to admit Richard King had been a better man than he, even when he was well into his madness. He was too proud to admit that he needed a hand to fight the king.

His senses started to recover. He counted at least ten people outside the room, all ready to jump in and save Ryker.

Bending, he broke the chains on his feet and set upon Ryker. The man was strong, so a few seconds of contact with silver wouldn't keep him down. He threw an uppercut that sent the Alpha crashing into his torture tools. The table broke, and all the tools clattered to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the room but his men still didn't intervene. They were still held by their Alpha's command.

Ryker rushed to his feet and charged at him, but he was ready. He dodged the huge fist almost the size of his head and twisted so he had Ryker in a chokehold. On any other day, he would have drawn the match out, but he had to get to Layla.

He could sense her. The bond felt weak, but he could sense Layla's distress.

The heavy chains were still on his arms, so he wrapped them around Ryker's neck and tightened them just as the door crashed open, and his men rushed into the room.

They stopped when they saw their strong Alpha struggling for breath and unable to move the silver from his body.

"What did you do to the human?" he growled.

"Nothing. Nothing. We didn't go over there," one of the men answered. "We just picked you up outside our gates."

The truth.

He loosened his hold on Ryker so he could breathe.

"Don't get pulled into shit you know nothing about. You've lived this long only because you've stayed out of my way."

When he shoved Ryker away from him, he stumbled and fell to his knees. When he started to stand, he growled in warning.

And the proud Alpha stayed on his knees, submitting against his will.

He didn't stop to give any more warnings. He ran through Ryker's rundown settlement and shifted the moment he was out of the gates. Layla was the priority; he would deal with Ryker and his wounded ego afterwards.

There was no magic in the grass field—nothing to stop him from running at full speed towards his mate.

But the closer he got, the more fear he sensed. Something was wrong at the hideout.