Chapter 135

Where did you just go?” Lane asked when I opened my eyes. The monster had receded—claws, fangs, power, and all. “Just now. Where did you go to give you that kind of control?”

“That’s none of your fucking concern,” I snapped. “I didn’t want to be immortal. I don’t want to outlive my family. You had no fucking right to do that!”

“Leave us,” he ordered instead, turning his back on me. Around us, his team filtered out without a word. It left us alone, which I wasn’t a fucking fan of. In fact, I wasn’t a fan of Lane at all at that moment. The audacity of the man. And to be so goddamn calm as he sat down on the couch. He gestured to a seat opposite. “Sit.”

“No,” I said.

“I wasn’t asking, Killian.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I don’t take orders from you.”

“Oh, but you do.” Lane grinned. “I own your ass, remember? That was the deal you fucking made when you asked me to turn you into a werewolf.”

I growled, not giving a fuck about anything. Goddamn fucking man. He was fucking right. I dropped into the seat with a scowl.

“You had no fucking right,” I repeated. “What about my family? Genevieve? My kids? Why the fuck did you even bother helping us? I didn’t want to be immortal! I want my fucking life—”

“I didn’t make you immortal,” Lane interrupted. I shut the fuck to as he waited to see what more I’d say. “I wouldn’t do that to your family, but I also can’t leave you unchecked.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.

“Tell me where you went when you regained control of the monster,” he said instead. I growled. I didn’t want to give him that personal information. “You can cooperate, Killian, or I can bring Dante back in here to help convince you. Beau may have a special talent for torture, but he learned from Dante, and Dante doesn’t share all his secrets. Tell me where the fuck you went when you regained control of the monster.”

“Genevieve,” I whispered. “I thought of Genevieve and something she said to me to remind me of who I am.”

“Interesting,” he murmured. “Tell me, what does it feel like? Having your monster inside you?”

“I can’t…” I shook my head. “I can’t describe it. I don’t know. It’s… it’s like sticking my finger in an electrical socket. Only it’s every fucking nerve in my body. And I can’t…”

“Can’t what, Killian?”

“Thinking of her helps me control it.”

“But you can’t,” Lane stated. “Not really.”

“I can enough,” I countered. “I don’t want to be on your team. I want my life. I worked my fucking ass off to get back to it. To her. You can’t take that away from me.”

“And I said I wouldn’t,” he said once more. “But you’re an unchecked monster, Killian, with no outlet. And unchecked monsters are dangerous.”

“I don’t—”

“How long do you think you can sit behind a desk at the lumber mill before you get restless? Before your monster becomes a problem?” he asked. I stared at him. There was no way in hell he could’ve known I called Sebastian to accept the job. And why wouldn’t I with twins on the way? “I make it my business to know these things, Killian. Answer my question.”

“I’d like to think I can make it work for the rest of my fucking life,” I admitted.

“The rest of your fucking life,” Lane repeated. “Do you realize how fucking dangerous you are?”

I said nothing because I didn’t want to say it out loud. I had an inkling of just how dangerous I was—I’d wanted to be this dangerous. What I hadn’t anticipated was the level of control I’d need to maintain this.

“Let me explain to you what almost fucking happened,” he said. “You almost killed your wife. Do you understand that? She was stupid enough to get your attention when you had no control of yourself, lured you to chase her—which you did—and then put herself between you and Beau. It was Beau’s job to make sure you didn’t fucking kill anyone. You got fucking lucky. She talked you back in control, but what if she hadn’t?”

I didn’t want to think about that.

“What if you got out?” he continued without waiting for me to say a fucking thing. “What if you killed her? What if you killed someone else? You are faster and stronger than any fucking human out there. It means they’re your prey.”

“No one is my prey,” I snapped. “And I’m in control.”

“For now,” Lane replied. “And I don’t play games with my monsters. So, here’s what we’re going to do, Killian. I branded you.”

“You did what?”

“That spell, it won’t make you immortal. But it will make you impossible to kill when you’re in a fight. No gun, knife, physical or metaphysical weapon will fucking kill you. It’s as close to immortality as I can get you without removing you from time. The harder you’re fighting for your life, the better it works. It’s why Keagan could cut you, but Beau couldn’t shoot you,” he explained. Jesus fucking Christ. I ran my palm over the front of my torn shirt. I didn’t have a fucking mark where Beau had shot me, but I did have a fresh scar from where Keagan had sliced me open. Apparently, the longer the spell settled, the faster I healed. “You work for my team and my team only. You will not take on any other hunting jobs unless I clear it first. You will work your desk job, be a husband, be a father, be a pack leader, and do whatever else you feel you have to do. But every year for two weeks, you belong to me.”

“Now, hold on—”

“There’s no room for negotiation,” he cut me off. “Two weeks, your ass is mine. And I plan to run your beast into the ground those two weeks. If I tell you to kill, you will kill. If I tell you to capture, you will capture. If I tell you to chase your proverbial wolf tail, you’ll chase that fake tail of yours until your fucking legs fall off. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah,” I growled.

“You will be extraordinarily compensated for those two weeks. My team always is. All expenses are paid, and you will travel the world. Dante and Maia are off to Russia tomorrow.”

“Sucks for Russia.”

“Not when they’ll save thousands by taking out a hive of mutant fae living in the woods,” Lane stated. Of course. Mutant fae. Why not? “If two weeks isn’t enough… if you ever find yourself struggling, you call me, and I’ll handle it.”

“How?” I asked. He considered me for a long moment.

“Did you know I own nine nightclubs around the country?” he told me instead. “And six in other countries?”

“Fascinating,” I said. “How about you answer my question?”

“Close your eyes, Killian,” he ordered.

“No. Not until—” The man moved impossibly fast—faster than I’d ever seen from him. He hauled me to my feet, magic flinging the couch aside. I had no chance to catch my bearings as he threw me into the wall. His hand closed around my neck tight enough to make a difference.

Fuck me, the man was powerful. Every attempt I made to fight him off was like him swatting a fucking fly. I stood no chance.

“When I say jump, you say how fucking high,” he snarled darkly. “Close your fucking eyes.”

I did as he ordered because I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I didn’t. Every nerve in my body was on edge at the loss of my sight. I trusted him, but I didn’t.

“Listen closely, Killian,” he ordered. “Under the music. What do you hear?”

A growl rippled through me as I leaned into my monster. I tuned out the music and the crowd. I tuned out Knight giving orders at the bar and the security staff breaking up a fight.

Under all that, buried deep, I heard it.

Them.

I heard them.

The whimpering and crying, the screaming and praying. Dozens of voices mingling together—an overwhelming collection of broken souls coming together violently.

My eyes snapped open with disbelief.

“Do you… is your… work room under the club?” Work room? Was that what I was calling the place he went and fucking killed people? Jesus fucking Christ.

“No. I built my nightclubs over my dungeons, so no one will ever hear them scream,” he corrected. Fucking lovely. “When I say if you ever have a fucking issue, you let me know, it’s because I have the means to satiate your monster stashed all around the fucking world. And if you ever cross that fucking line without me, I will drag your ass down to one of my dungeons, and I will pay back what you’re owed for who you hurt and how.”

I nodded because as much as I wanted to believe I held any sentimental value to Lane, I knew I didn’t. Not really.

Lane made a phenomenal ally, but he also made a horrifying enemy.

“Ask me what happened to my wife, Killian. The mother of my children,” he said. I swallowed hard. The knot in my stomach told me I didn’t want to know. He ordered once more, “Ask me.”

“What happened to your wife, Lane?” I whispered.

“I said once that I couldn’t ignore the war because it came into my home,” he told me. An anger I’d never seen in him blazed in his blue eyes. It transformed him in a way I couldn’t explain, but my heart kicked up in my chest. “Aodhán bit my wife without me knowing, and she never said a fucking word. In the middle of the night, she shifted. She killed my sons in their beds before I knew what was happening—left them in pieces for me to find. I knew she was a feral wolf, but ask me what I did to her. Ask.”

His grip on my neck tightened as he leaned in closer.

“What did you do, Lane?” I managed to get out.

“I hunted her. For weeks, I hunted my wife. When I finally caught her, I didn’t fucking kill her. I strung her up, and I tortured her for every last bit of information I could get about Aodhán and his growing pack. Six weeks I let her heal over and over again before I carved her up all over again.”

My stomach rolled.

“If I’m willing to do that to the woman I was ready to give up immortality for, what the fuck do you think I’ll do to you if you fuck this up?” The question was barely uttered, but I felt it with every fiber of my being. “There’s nowhere you can run that I won’t hunt you down and find you. There is no fucking God where you’re concerned. There is only me. I am your judge. I am your jury. And I will be your executioner. I am absolute. Do I make myself clear?”

Reminder to self: never fucking cross Lane.

I nodded, my throat on fire from his hand. Satisfied, he released me and stepped back.

“Is this how you welcomed everyone to the fucking team?” I rasped, rubbing my neck to ease the pain. On edge, I tracked his movements around the room as he made himself comfortable all over again.

“I froze Dante to the brink of death for seven years,” Lane replied all too casually. “And I taught Keagan just what those fucking knives of his were capable of. He still has the scars to prove it. I made Kal face his worse fucking fears over and over until he was numb to them, and Beau made friends with his own firing squad over three years. No one joins my team unscathed.”

“And Maia?” I asked.

“Maia’s so fucking broken there’s not a damn thing I can do to break her more, so I gave her the means to protect herself,” he said.

“What are you going to do to me?” I wasn’t fucking sure I wanted to know.

“You’re not immortal, Killian,” Lane reminded me. “The threat of taking you away from your family will be motivation enough. I’m not looking to fucking break you. I’m looking to save your family from you.”

“I’d like to think they’ll never need saving from me.”

“Reality is so much harsher than our dreams. Go back to the hotel. Talk to your wife. It’s best you be on the same page. I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay.” I nodded because nodding seemed to be the only fucking thing I could do. I didn’t have the words to articulate the immense array of feelings inside me. I took his invitation to leave, ready to get the fuck out of his murder house.

I was almost out the fucking door when he called after me.

“And Killian? Set two plates for New Year’s Eve. Beau and I will be there.”

The wedding.How the fuck had he known about that? Genevieve and I hadn’t even brought it up to my family that we were planning a second wedding at the end of the year.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I make it my business to know everything my team does,” Lane said. “I’ll see you at the end of the year.”