Page 46 of Luna Ascending

I need details on the Coven, and so far the mercenaries we've captured won't bloody talk. We're going to have to extract the information more forcefully. I won't ask anyone else to do my dirty work. A little part of me thrills at the idea of making these guys pay anyway.

Freya will disapprove so, I won't tell her. She'll find out soon enough, and she can fucking thank me after. The mercenaries brought it on themselves – the filthy buggers chose to work for the Coven. They will talk, whether they intend to or not. I swear on the goddess I will make sure they talk before more harm comes to my pack.

The guard I already roughed up is a good target – he's got first hand experience of how very real my threats are.

I stomp through the holding cells until I locate him and order the shifter guarding his cell to open it. We enter together and I can smell the mercenary's fear when he sees me. It rolls off him in waves when I dismiss my guard, telling him not to return, no matter what he hears.

My rage slips as the door shuts behind him. I let loose on the mercenary, fists finding soft targets and bones crunching. A red haze descends. I can't stop. I won't stop. I've seen the state of those prisoners they kept, I've heard about the experiments and the torture. This fucker should pay. He will pay, I will make him pay.

Only when the man is a begging bloody mess in the corner do I manage to reign myself in and demand he answers me.

“P..p..p..please... stop. I'll tell you anything... please” he begs through a mouthful of broken teeth “please... just ... ask the question.”

I feel sick to my stomach. All my violence, and I haven't even asked him a question. What the fuck am I doing?!

My brain fog slowly clears and I finally ask the mercenary about the collars. He falls over himself to tell me the solution – the fobs are linked to finger prints. Until one of the mercenary's fingers activates the fob, it can't work as an electronic key.

I mind-link Lyell, who seems cautiously pleased with my news. I grab my knife from my belt strap and stride towards the mercenary. He won't miss one finger. What's a little more blood? The bastard deserves everything that's coming to him.

Suddenly there's a commotion outside and the door flies open. Freya descends on me like whirling dervish. Lyell must have alerted her. I'm his alpha, what the hell is he thinking tattling to her?!

Freya quickly takes in the bloody cell, and the prisoner beaten to a pulp in the corner. “What the fuck are you doing Aaron?! Do I even know you?”

She pulls the knife from my hand and throws it violently on the floor making the mercenary shrink back against the wall. “This is not how the Aaron I know would act.”

As Freya berates me for loosing control my wolf growls wildly, fighting to get out, to get at her. He's riled up and ready to attack any threat, including her. Suddenly I feel a weird pressure behind my eyes and he backs off.

What am I doing? This is my mate, this is Freya. She deserves better than this.

“This is not how a decent alpha behaves” her angry words echo round my head long after she's stormed away.

She's right. This is not how to run my pack, this is not the example I want to set. As the adrenalin fades I inspect the wreck of a man in the corner. I can't quite believe I let my darkness overtake me like this. I clean myself up and order the pack doctor to attend the mercenary, ashamed I lost it so badly. I even lost track of my goal.

I get one of the mercenaries prints, without removing his finger. Guilt washes over me – I was going to mutilate him for the sake of it, when a much similar solution would have sufficed. I rush back to the communal area of the pack house to find Lyell, Liz and Morganna.

Aurora is hanging around with Lyell when I find them. He has no fucking business around my little sister. I don't like it and make a mental note to pull him up on it. Lyell, with my sister's help, manages to get the fingerprints to activate a fob.

As Lyell works, again I sense weird gut-churning waves rolling off Morganna, but there's no time to pull my jumbled thoughts together nor to voice my concerns. Lyell enters the final bit of coding into his programme and a high pitched beeping emits from the fob as the collars deactivate. They fall from Liz and Morganna's necks to the floor with a metallic clunk. Finally – they're free.

In an instant all the electronics go out, as if the house's fuses have all blown at once. The feeling of uneasiness in the pit of my stomach blossoms into full-on alarm. Shit! This better not be Morganna.

We have no way of knowing how broken she is. We don't even know how long she's been captive, or what those bastards have done to her. Torture, starvation, experimentation – those things can break a soul, fracture a spirit. I don't have the first fucking clue how to deal with a fractured witch.

Morganna lets out an ear-piercing shriek and every piece of glass in the room shatters. It tears through my very soul - it sounds like she's feeling all her suffering for the very first time.

As the pack-house rattles I sprint towards Freya and grab her to me, ignoring her glowering anger in my need to protect her. Shifters around us flee as the foundations of the house start to move and groan. I use my body to shield Freya – the building feels like it's about to fall around us.

Out the corner of my eye I see Angus darting towards his wife. Shit. Morganna has no awareness of where, or who, she is. She could kill him. I can't get to him and shield Freya too. I hope the stupid bastard knows what he's doing.

I brace myself for the worst when, as suddenly as it started, the chaos stops and the lights flicker on. In the middle of the floor, surrounded by settling dust is Angus, cradling an entirely unconscious Morganna.

“I had to knock her out” the older wolf says, his eyes shiny with unshed tears “I hit her, I had to. How will she ever forgive me?!”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Aaron's POV

There's no point in waiting for the pomp and ceremony of a traditional pack handover. I'll just have to ignore the grumblings of the older council members. My father is a broken man, unable to purge himself of Rennard's betrayal and his worry that our innermost pack secrets were being handed over to the Coven for years. I don't have time to get bogged down in the painstakingly slow formalities of tradition.

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