Page 44 of Fear

Men were loading weapons, throwing on cuts, preparing for war. Goliath stormed out first, his boots hitting the pavement hard as he mounted his bike. The second his hands gripped the handlebars, his wolf surged forward, hungry, demanding blood.

Hunter pulled up beside him, loading a fresh magazine into his Glock. “We are taking them all out if they have your woman?”

Dixon rolled his shoulders. “I vote we burn the place down.”

King’s voice was steady, sharp. “We do what we must. First priority is getting Sofia back. Then we decide who fucking lives.” Goliath revved the engine, his jaw tight. There wouldn’t be a decision.

Every single one of those motherfuckers was already dead if they had touched Sofia. The ride was a blur. The world flew by, but his mind was trapped in a loop. Her voice, her laughter. The way she had smirked at him that first night at the clubhouse, like she didn’t quite trust him yet—but wanted to.

The way she had gasped his name, her body arching beneath him, her lips swollen from his kisses.

The way she had belonged to him. And now? Now she was out there, maybe locked away, hurt. The thought sent another wave of blinding fury through him. His wolf was pacing, restless, demanding he change, demanding he rip through everything in his way. But he couldn’t lose himself. Not yet. Not until she was safe.

The compound came into view just as Goliath had pictured it. High walls. Armed guards. They were expecting an attack. But they weren’t expecting the Wolverines.

King signalled with his hand, and the men split off—some flanking left, others right. Goliath stayed dead centre. Because he wasn’t sneaking in.

He was walking straight through the fucking front door. The guards barely had time to react before gunfire split the night. A bullet whizzed past Goliath’s head, and he barely flinched, lifting his own gun, pulling the trigger.

The first man went down. Then the second. Then the third. They weren’t stopping. The Wolverines moved like wolves closing in for the kill.

Frost disappeared into the shadows, his knives already flashing as he cut men down without a sound. Hunter tackled a man to the ground, breaking his neck with a sickening snap.

Dixon and Fang were already at the side doors, blowing through security like paper.

Goliath didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think. Because he was almost there. A man barrelled toward him, swinging a crowbar.

Goliath caught it midair, ripped it from the bastard’s hands, and cracked it against his skull. Bones snapped, blood sprayed. And then—silence. The fight was over.

The only men left breathing were the ones the Wolverines had chosen to keep alive for information.

Goliath turned, his voice a guttural snarl. “Where. The. Fuck. Is. She?”

Jason Rodes wasn’t here. Which meant they weren’t done yet. And Goliath wasn’t stopping until he had her back. Or until every last one of these motherfuckers was dead.

He stood in the middle of the compound, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, the world around him seemed to blur, as if sound and sight were being sucked away by the sheer gravity of his fury.

Then—he threw his head back and roared.

The sound was savage. Primeval. A sound that shook the walls and echoed into the night like a declaration of war.

It wasn’t just anger. It was grief, loss, and a soul-splitting sense of failure all wrapped into one beast’s howl. His mate wasn’t here.

He’d come all this way. He’d killed. Bled. Fought. And she still wasn’t here.

The rage boiled inside him until he thought his own skin might tear apart under the pressure. Behind him, two of the surviving guards were being dragged across the gravel—bloody, groaning, barely conscious.

King shoved one of them down to his knees, his gun pressed to the man's temple.

“Where the fuck is Rodes?”

The man coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. “I—I don’t know… he left before the attack—he said it was too hot, that we’d buy him time—”

“Where did he go?” King’s voice was calm, but there was death in it.

The man shook his head frantically. “He doesn’t tell us! He doesn’t trust anyone—only his driver knows, I swear—”

The other man tried to crawl away. Frost stepped in without a word and crushed the man’s leg under his boot.

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