CHAPTER 4

INTO THE SHADOWS.

Cassius’s POV

“That sound came from inside,” I said, my voice low.

Magnus nodded, body tense. “This could be a trap.”

“I don’t care.” I pushed toward the warehouse door, my wolf restless beneath my skin. If there was even a chance my sister was inside, I’d burn this place to the ground before letting it slip away.

The warehouse loomed, rusted and hunched like a dying beast. Its metal walls were tattooed with graffiti. The roof sagged inward. We moved in the shadows, slipping through broken doors like phantoms. Inside, dust thickened the air. A single red light swung overhead, casting long, warped shadows across the floor.

Magnus took point, scanning every corner. I stayed close, senses sharpened to a blade’s edge. The my sister’s scent was faint, laced with something sour and wrong.

Then I heard it.

A choked sound.

I followed it, boots silent on the warped floorboards. At the far end, a door hung crooked on its hinges. I pushed it open.

Inside, a single lantern burned, casting a sickly glow over a slumped figure.

A woman.

But it wasn’t Celene.

She was middle aged and bruised. Skin raw in places with chains bound to her wrists, and her chest rose in shallow, uneven breaths. Her eyes snapped to mine wide and wild with fear.

She tried to crawl away, but I dropped to a knee, keeping my voice steady. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

Her eyes darted between us. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t let them take me back. Please…”

My jaw tightened. I stepped forward and broke the chains at her wrists. “Who did this?”

“The traders,” she rasped, trembling. “They… took others. So many.”

“Lycan traders,” Magnus muttered.

Heat surged in my veins.

“Where did they take them?” I demanded.

“I don’t know but I heard them say something about a shipment leaving at dawn. Hidden transport.”

Dawn. That gave us hours, if that.

I rose. “Then we don’t wait.”

Magnus nodded. “We get her out first.”

I turned to her. “Can you walk?”

She hesitated, then gave a weak nod. Magnus slipped an arm under her shoulder, steadying her as we made our way out.

My mind was already racing.

If Celene was part of that shipment, I wasn’t just going to save her—

I was going to end whoever put her there.

We got the woman to a safe house near the city’s edge. She downed water with shaking hands, flinching every time the wind rattled the shutters.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Olana.”

“You said they took others. Did you see a girl with long black hair, golden eyes?”

She furrowed her brow. “Maybe… I saw someone like that. She was different. Fought them harder than the rest.”

My heart kicked.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. But a man said she was special. He called her… a rare breed. Royal blood. Said she was too valuable for the usual buyers. They moved her.”

Magnus’s expression darkened. “They know who she is.”

I clenched my fists. This wasn’t random. Someone had targeted her.

“Anything else?” I asked.

She hesitated. “They mentioned a name. V… Varcen. I think.”

Magnus stiffened. “Varcen doesn’t deal in trash. He sells to the wealthiest Alphas, monsters who pay for exotic blood. If your sister’s with him…”

I didn’t need to hear the rest.

It meant she was alive.

For now and it meant someone powerful had her.

“Find out where Varcen is,” I said.

Magnus gave a thin smile. “Already on it.”

Olana reached for my sleeve. “You’ll stop them, right?”

I met her eyes. “No,” I said. “I’ll ruin them.”

The underground market was hidden beneath the city’s ruins, buried in tunnels once used for war.

We found it by nightfall.

A crumbling stone archway concealed the entrance. Two guards waited, armed and bored.

Magnus handed them gold coins without a word.

“Enjoy the show,” one sneered.

I nearly snapped his neck.

We walked inside.

Our disguises itched. Cloaks draped over our shoulders, silver-trimmed cuffs at our wrists. Masks of wealth and cold detachment. We blended in.

Cages lined the walls row upon row. Women. Children. Barely clothed. Eyes hollow, or too angry to break. The air stank of blood, sweat, and worse.

Magnus approached a trader.

“We’re looking for something rare,” he said. “Young. Long dark hair with gold eyes. Royal blood.”

The man frowned. “Can’t say I’ve seen one.”

I stepped forward. “You’re sure?”

He licked his lips. “Ask Varcen. He handles the high-end stock.”

“Where is he?”

“Past the stalls. Iron doors.”

We moved.

Two more guards blocked the doors. Magnus slipped them silver.

They stepped aside.

The iron doors groaned open, revealing a chamber far removed from the filth outside.

Velvet drapes muffled the noise. A chandelier gleamed above a long desk of carved obsidian.

Behind it sat a man with dark, Oily skin and a scar slicing through his right cheek. Varcen.

He sipped wine like royalty.

“Buyers?” he drawled, setting down his goblet.

“We heard you deal in exclusives,” Magnus said.

Varcen smiled. “Everyone wants something exclusive. Can you pay for it?”

I stepped forward. “We’re not here to haggle. We want information.”

The smile faltered. “Information also has a cost.”

So did wasting my time.

I moved fast.

One second he was smug, the next, pinned to his desk. The goblet fell and shattered, red wine bleeding across lavish fur rug.

“Where is the princess?” I growled. “Black hair. Gold eyes. Who bought her?”

Varcen choked, clawing at my arm. Magnus quietly locked the door behind us.

“Y-you’re making a mistake,” he stammered. “You know who I work for?”

I slammed him again. The desk cracked.

“I don’t care. Talk, or I’ll rip it out of your throat.”

His fear turned real.

“Balthazar!” he gasped. “Alpha Balthazar. He made an offer before she ever reached the auction. Said she was… different. Rare. He needed her.”

The name hit like a punch to the chest.

Balthazar.

Of course it was him.

A brutal Alpha with no soul left. A warlord who fed on fear and power.

If he had Celene—

I couldn't bare the thought.

I drew my dagger and buried it in Varcen’s neck.

He gasped. Twitched.

I leaned close. “Rot in hell.”

Then I twisted the blade.

He choked on his blood and went still.

Magnus stepped over the body, wiping the blade clean. “We need to move.”

I took the dagger back and slid it into its sheath.

My hands were steady. My wolf, furious.

We left the chamber and slipped through the tunnels like shadows.

The stench of the market clung to my clothes but I barely noticed.

All I could hear was the echo of a name.

Balthazar.

And I knew I was running out of time.