-Adrian-
The interrogation room falls silent as I stare down at the woman at my feet. Her dark hair is tangled from Carter's rough handling, but her eyes burn with defiance as she glares up at me. There's no fear in her gaze—only calculation and hatred.
"Roxie," I say, letting a sadistic smile play on my lips. "What an unexpected surprise."
She spits at my feet, her aim impressively accurate. "Fuck you, Adrian."
Carter yanks her head back by her hair, making her wince. "Found her at the north gate. She was wrapped around Liam—that new kid. Poor bastard didn't even realize what he was doing, letting her in."
Amos's favorite whore. How convenient, Nox purrs in my mind, already imagining all the ways we could make her talk.
I circle her slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. Her scent is a mixture of expensive perfume, another man's cologne, and the unmistakable tang of fear she's trying desperately to hide.
"I've always had a rule about not hurting women," I say, crouching down to bring my face level with hers. The movement is fluid, controlled—a reminder that I could strike at any moment. "But for Amos's favorite, I think I'll make an exception."
Roxie's eyes widen slightly—the first crack in her armor—before she masks it with a sneer. "You don't scare me, dog. Amos has done worse to me for fun."
"Should we get her talking now or wait for you to finish with these two?" Jax asks from his position against the wall, nodding toward our original prisoners.
I straighten, looking between Roxie and the two men tied to chairs. My decision is quick, instinctive. The kind of decision that comes naturally when you've been Alpha for as long as I have.
"Take these two to their cells," I tell Jamison, dismissing them with a flick of my wrist. "Playtime's over." My eyes drift back to Roxie, taking in every detail of her face. "I've got a new toy."
"Want me to prep her for you?" Asher asks, already moving toward the cabinet where we keep our more specialized equipment.
"Silver cuffs. Hang her from the ceiling," I instruct, my voice cool and detached. "I want her uncomfortable but able to talk."
Jamison and Killian drag the two prisoners out, their pleas echoing down the corridor like a macabre soundtrack. Asher retrieves a set of silver cuffs from a locked cabinet while Jax and Carter haul Roxie to her feet.
They carry her to the center of the room and chain her up, the metal sizzling slightly as it makes contact with her skin. Werewolves and silver—always a painful combination. Roxie is now hanging by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling, the silver cuffs burning her skin. Her toes barely touch the ground, forcing her to balance on the balls of her feet. Despite her position, her chin is raised defiantly.
I remove my jacket slowly, methodically rolling up my sleeves. The deliberate movements are part of the psychological game—letting her anticipate what's coming next.
"Now, let's have a chat about why Amos sent his favorite madam into my territory," I say, my voice deceptively casual.
Roxie lets out a harsh laugh, still playing tough. "Maybe I just wanted to sample some of your men. I hear Dark Pine wolves are... well-endowed."
I move with blinding speed, suddenly inches from her face, one hand gripping her jaw. Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers—a rabbit's heartbeat.
"Let's get something straight," I whisper, my voice dangerously soft. "I'm not in a patient mood. Amos has been sending me pictures of my mate for three days, and I'm very, very angry."
Make her bleed, Nox demands, pushing against my control.
"Pictures?" Roxie's eyes widen slightly, genuine confusion flickering across her features. "I don't know anything about any pictures."
"Bullshit," Asher says from behind me. "Amos doesn't make a move without you knowing about it."
Roxie struggles against the cuffs, wincing as the silver burns deeper. "You think he tells his whore everything? I'm just a warm body to him."
Killian returns to the room, tablet in hand. "Her phone's clean," he reports. "Nothing about the Luna or photos."
I grab a knife from the table, testing its weight in my hand. The blade catches the light, gleaming with deadly promise.
"Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."
I trace the flat of the blade along her collarbone, not cutting yet, just threatening. The metal is cold against her skin, making her shiver involuntarily.
"You won't hurt me," she says, voice wavering slightly. "Everyone knows Adrian Blackclaw doesn't torture women."
I smile, cold and predatory. "Everyone's wrong."
I press the tip of the blade into her shoulder—just enough to draw blood. Roxie gasps, her body tensing.
"Where is she?" I demand.
"I don't know who you're talking about," she grits out through clenched teeth.
I dig the blade in deeper, watching her face contort with pain. "My mate. Where is she? He has eyes on her."
"Your mate?" Her eyes flash with genuine confusion. "Amos didn't say anything about a mate."
She's telling the truth, Nox reluctantly admits.
I pause, studying her face. The micro-expressions, the dilation of her pupils, the cadence of her breathing—all tell me she's not lying. At least not about this.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I step back, wiping the blade clean on a cloth as I check the message.
My expression changes instantly—the cold calculation replaced by urgent focus. My heart rate spikes, adrenaline flooding my system.
"What is it?" Jax asks, tensing at my reaction.
I turn the phone so they can all see:
LW Friend: Silver Moon Pack. Hurry.
My fingers fly across the screen:
Adrian: Be there within the hour.
I look up at my men, a new fire in my eyes. The hunt is on.
"Asher, get the plane ready," I order, my voice vibrating with barely contained energy. "We're wheels up in fifteen."
"What about her?" Killian asks, nodding toward Roxie.
"Lock her up," I say, already moving toward the door. "We'll deal with her when we get back."
"Where are we going?" Asher asks, falling into step beside me.
"Silver Moon Pack territory," I answer, fierce determination hardening my voice. "We're going to get my mate."
As we rush from the room, Roxie calls after us, her voice echoing off the concrete walls.
"Adrian! Whatever Amos is doing, it's bigger than your mate! He's planning something!"
I pause in the doorway, looking back at her with golden eyes—Nox pushing to the surface, merging our consciousness until it's hard to tell where I end and he begins.
"Then he better pray I never find him," we growl, the sound barely human.
The door slams shut behind us, leaving Roxie hanging in the darkness. But I'm already focused on what lies ahead.
Little Wolf.
My mate.
My everything.
And Goddess help anyone who stands between us.