Page 56 of Fanged Temptation

The tarmac looked all but deserted—save for the sleek private jet, silver and glossy in the rain.

My lips still tingled where Leah had kissed me, her confession a constant echo in the back of my mind.I love you-I love you-I love you. The warmth of that moment lingered like a soft ache in my chest, but there was no time to revel in it just yet.

We had a fiancé to take down first. It was the only way we’d ever be free.

Leah inhaled sharply, her voice barely audible over the rustling wind. “This feels like a trap.”

“Because it is,” I murmured. My gaze flicked between the private jet and the vacant hangar. “Stay low. I’m going to take a closer look, see if I can find where he's keeping Addison.”

Leah’s brow furrowed but eventually she nodded, gripping my arm and squeezing briefly. “Be careful.”

I offered a slight, reassuring smile before slipping into the shadows. Rain pasted my hair flat as I crept along the fence line, keeping to the blind spots I’d observed from a distance.

Eventually the hangar loomed before me, a hulking skeleton of metal beams and corrugated walls that rattled in the gusty wind. With my heart in my throat, I slipped inside through a groaning side door, testing the air for Gregor’s scent.

My senses prickled and my nose wrinkled as I tasted the staleness of the air, the faint tang of old engine oil, and something else—chemical, almost sweet.

A cold knot tightened in my stomach as I pressed on, trying not to let my footsteps echo in the vast, vacant space. The ceiling soared overhead, rusted girders forming a lattice against the grey sky beyond grimy skylights.

I rounded a stack of abandoned crates, my pulse thudding in my ears and—stopped dead in my tracks.

There, in the back, I saw rows upon rows of perfectly dressed figures, all standing at rigid attention beneath the sparse light that filtered through the dusty windows. My breath caught in my throat. Wax minions.

For a split second fear paralyzed me, and I nearly let a scream slip past my lips. But the line of silent bodies remained inanimate—unnerving, vacant smiles stretched across lifeless faces.

They didn’t move. Didn’t register my presence. No breath or blinking eyes, just blank stares directed at nothing. After a beat, I forced myself to exhale. They were… puppets, empty vessels without Gregor around to direct them.

I knew that. Back when I had first been promised to Gregor, I had done some digging into his rare vampiric power, the so-called “puppet-master” ability that let him breathe false life into these sculptures. His own wax model army—he’d carved them all himself.

Without my fiancé’s influence they weren’t a threat. But Gregor was around here somewhere, waiting to snatch me up, and these dapper dolls were his trump card. He could unleash them at any moment.

Not if you torch them first.

My heart pounded, adrenaline spiking. A reckless, range-fueled idea began to take shape in my head.

Steeling myself, I slunk through the rows of statues, refusing to look too closely into any of those empty, smiling faces. The deeper I ventured, the more uneasy I felt, the back of my neck burning like countless blank eyes were tracking my every move.

I spotted a few fuel canisters stacked near what must have been a maintenance area. Perfect. I wedged one canister free, grimacing at the weight. My pulse throbbed in my temples as I carried it back through the wax forms.

Twisting off the cap, I started dousing the line of minions, flinching at the strong reek of jet fuel. I covered row after row, keeping my eyes low as I stood nose-to-nose with those eerie blank figures.

The next step, however, was harder. A surge of panic slashed through me. I had no lighter, no matches—and we were inside a hangar with minimal electricity.Maybe a stray spark? Short-circuit something?—

Footsteps. My chest clenched.

“Hello, bride. Are you ready to come home?”

My heart lurched, dread rushing hot through my veins.

Gregor materialized from behind the crates, posture poised like a cat preparing to pounce. With his sleek black suit andhis slicked back hair, he looked every bit the formidable villain. Even the stormy gloom couldn’t hide the ominous glint in his bloodshot eyes.

I forced myself to stand tall, clutching the fuel canister in my arms. “You just love theatrics, don’t you, Gregor,” I spat, letting a sneer slip into my tone. “Trying to show off?”

A thin smile curled his lips. “Some might call it showmanship. But you…” He reached out, caressing the air. “You need a lesson in submission, my dear.”

I recoiled, every cell screaming at me to tear him apart. Leah was outside, hidden—safe. My family was nowhere in sight this time. There were no bystanders, no distractions. Just Gregor and me.

And it was about time we ended things.

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