CHAPTER 3: FATAL GRACE

Lex's POV

"Oh, I love X-Men," I said through the mindlink, trying to make conversation with my Beta, who wore that damn cool t-shirt like a badge of nerd-honor. Really, I was just buying time before he snapped and unleashed verbal vengeance. So far, he’d been serving me the silent treatment on a flaming platter.

"Yeah, 'cause that’s what we’re gonna be—ex-men in a few minutes," he spat.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I backpedaled verbally, but I’d seen the storm brewing. "Hey, silver lining, right? We found the rogue's cursed hideout—no one’s managed that in, what, decades?"

"You absolute dumbass," Rowland growled through the bond as we both struggled against the barbed ropes tying us to a godforsaken tree. "You had one job—not to step into the forbidden zone without your dad’s command. And yet here we are, gagged and gift-wrapped for the enemy."

"Technically, I had three jobs," I muttered. "Scout, secure, survive. Two out of three ain't bad."

"I swear on your dumbass d*ck, Lex," he snapped, eyes blazing with murder, "if I die before I get laid again, I’m haunting your ass."

"I thought the phrase was 'too young to die'," I quipped. Nerd reflex.

Rowland growled. It was music to my ears.

"You dragged me into this. I should’ve known better than to follow your deranged wolf instincts. You’re a walking catastrophe."

"Hey! I'm resourcefully impulsive, not catastrophic," I defended, tossing in a hair flip even though we were tied up. Style matters.

"No brain. None. Not even zombies would touch your head in an apocalypse."

"That’s... creatively savage."

"Don’t you dare make those damn puppy eyes at me," he hissed. "That’s how you got me stuck in this hellhole!"

"You talk like I got you pregnant."

"Get that cursed d*ck anywhere near me and I’ll personally strangle it."

"Careful, Row. That sounded suspiciously like a blowjob threat."

He shot me a death glare. "You’re a d*ckless wonder."

Gods help me, my Beta was a five-year-old with fangs.

Then came him.

"Well, well, well," a baritone drawled, oily with mockery. A towering, beast-like figure stepped into view, looking every inch the nightmare I remembered.

The Rogue King.

Just like that, the Rogue King made his entrance—dripping arrogance, cloaked in menace. The bastard had personally ordered the guards to gag us like we were some disobedient brats caught sneaking out.

He sauntered toward us, sadistic glee written all over his scarred face.

"Drama queen," my wolf scoffed. "He’s the one who ordered us gagged."

To be fair, my wolf was half the reason we were in this mess.

“Your wolf—your damn wolf—he was the one who nudged us across the line! ‘Just one more step, Rowland, come on, don’t be a chicken!’” Rowland mocked.

“Hey!” my wolf snapped in protest inside my head. “It felt right!”

It felt like doom, if you ask me.

‘Thanks, asshole.’

We were tied, gagged, humiliated.

I made a few muffled sounds through the duct tape.

The bastard rolled his eyes and ripped it off, taking half my facial hair with it.

Mother. Fucker.

I didn’t scream. I was Alpha-trained. I just died silently inside.

"What’s with the noise, mutt?" he asked irritably.

"Just wanted to wish you a Happy National Animal Day," I grinned. My cheek knew no bounds.

Rowland snorted behind his gag.

The Rogue King looked like he’d swallowed something bitter and was now choking on it.

“Are you demented?” the Rogue King sneered.

“No. Just gay,” I deadpanned, blinking innocently.

The bastard recoiled like I’d just coughed up a plague. Homophobic prick.

“I’m kidding,” I snorted. “Lex. Alpha of the Water Moon Pack. Your future executioner.”

"Lex, what the fuck ?!" Rowland screeched through the link. "Why announce our identities like some Saturday morning cartoon villain ?!"

"And this is my Beta, Rowland. Feel free to kill him first."

If looks could kill, Rowland’s glare would’ve scorched the continent.

"You traitorous asshole! I knew I should’ve never shared my ice creams with you in training!"

"Wait, you kept track of those?"

"Fifteen a day, you greedy cow! That wasn’t bonding. That was a hostage situation! I should’ve charged you rent for freezer space."

The Rogue King growled, cutting through our bickering. "Why are you here?"

I dropped the act. Cold fury burned through my veins.

"To avenge our fallen. To retrieve the Water Moon Stone. To bury your rotting ass."

His laughter echoed, cruel and guttural.

"You think I fear a boy in chains? Your pack must be filled with pretty faces and vacant minds."

I smirked, freeing my wrists inch by bloody inch from the wolfsbane-coated binds. "I’d love to see you try."

"Stall him!" Rowland urged. "These damn ropes are poison-laced. I can’t break free fast enough."

But I wasn’t listening anymore.

All I could hear was my mother’s last scream. All I could see was the moment he ripped the Luna Stone from her neck and slaughtered her before my eyes.

I was ten. And I remembered.

"You just signed your death warrant," the bastard rasped, coughing from laughter. "Tell your mother hello. I wish I’d made her scream in more ways before she died."

Rage detonated inside me.

"Shit," Rowland whispered. "We’re doomed."

But not today.

Because just as the Rogue King lunged with murderous speed, she appeared.

Like a mirage carved from the night.

A dangerous beauty.

Deadly grace. Lethal mystery.

Our savior—or our doom.

Either way, I couldn’t look away.