Page 84 of Scarred Savages
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Good.”
24
Hudson
Blood drips steadily onto the concrete floor, each droplet joining the growing puddle. The metallic scent fills the basement, mixing with sweat and fear.
“Pace yourself,” I tell Axel, my voice steady despite the rage burning in my gut. “We need answers before you carve him up completely.”
The man dangles from chains bolted to the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. His left eye is swollen shut, his lip split open, and multiple cuts crisscross his abdomen.
Axel steps back, admiring his handiwork with a twisted smile. Blood speckles his face like freckles, and his eyes hold that manic glint that means he’s enjoying himself too much.
“Don’t worry,” he says, wiping blood from his hatchet blade onto his jeans. “I’m just warming up.”
I circle the prisoner slowly, taking in his battered form. He tried to take Luna and one of our protected females. He put his hands on what’s mine. Every alpha instinct in me screams to let Axel finish him, but we need information first.
According to our file, this piece of shit has been working for us for two weeks. One of the new hires that came with glowing recommendations. Too glowing, I realize now. We should have dug deeper.
“Why did you apply to work here?” I ask, keeping my voice level despite the simmering rage beneath my skin.
The man spits blood onto the floor. A glob of red lands near my boot. “Go to hell.”
Axel’s hatchet flashes again, opening another line across the man’s chest. The prisoner screams, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls.
“Wrong answer,” Axel snarls, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes even me uneasy. “Let’s try again.”
The man wheezes, struggling to catch his breath. “Fuck. Okay. I volunteered.”
“Volunteered?” I press, stepping closer until I can smell the fear radiating off him. It’s sharp and acrid, cutting through the copper scent of blood.
“I knew my wife was here,” he gasps. “Figured I’d get both at the same time.”
“Both?” I lean in closer. “Explain.”
He laughs, a wet, gurgling sound. “The silver-haired bitch. And my wife. Two birds, one stone.”
My fist connects with his jaw before I can stop myself. His head snaps back, and fresh blood sprays from his mouth.
“Her name is Luna,” I growl. “And you’ll show some fucking respect.”
“Whose orders?” I demand, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back. “Who sent you after her?”
The basement door creaks open, and Damien joins us.
“What the fuck happened?” he asks, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the bloody scene before him.
“This piece of shit attacked Luna,” I explain, releasing the prisoner’s hair. “Tried to drag her and one of our female tenants into a guard truck.”
Damien’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening until I hear his teeth grinding. “Is she okay?”
Before I can answer, the door opens again, and Ethan walks in, his usually pristine shirt speckled with Luna’s blood. The sight makes my wolf snarl, straining against my control.
“She’s resting,” Ethan says, his voice tight. “A mild concussion and various bruises. She’ll be okay, physically at least.” His eyes land on our prisoner. “But she’s shaken up.”
Damien’s fists clench at his sides. “And the other female?”
“Sedated but stable,” Ethan replies. “She’s his wife, apparently. Been hiding with us for months.”
