4. PORT ALVAREZ

FLETCHER'S POV

I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder.

I snarled, ducking under a jagged hook that aimed for my throat.

I was surrounded by four of Logan's henchmen.

They moved like a pack, covering each other's weaknesses, exploiting every opening I gave them.

"Die, you Belmont trash!" one of them screamed, lunging at me.

I gutted him before he hit the ground, but two more took his place. A claw raked down my back, and I roared in frustration.

Where was Carlos?

My cousin should have finished with Logan by now. 

Unless.....

I looked up just in time to see a blur of fur launch from the shadows.

Carlos, my cousin hit Logan with the force of a freight train, pinning the traitor to the dirt. His massive wolf form dwarfed Logan's, and for a moment, I thought we had him.

"Get him!" a rogue shouted. "Don't let him escape!"

"I need backup!" Carlos yelled, his voice straining as he grappled with Logan.

But Logan was fast. Too fast.

Something was wrong. Logan had always been strong, but this was different. His muscles bulged unnaturally, veins standing out like spiral lines under his skin. 

Whatever enhancements the rogues were trafficking on Dartmoor, Logan was clearly sampling the product.

With a sickening crunch, Logan turned, throwing Carlos off him like he weighed nothing. Logan was huge, fueled by whatever dark magic the rogues were using on this cursed island.

He slammed Carlos into a tree, dazing him.

The impact shook the ground. The bark of the tree protruded outward, and I heard ribs crack even from twenty feet away.

"No!" I screamed.

I tried to run to my cousin, to help him, to rip Logan's throat out with my teeth............

The image of the girl with the scar flashed in my mind. Her scent. It was strawberries and rain, and it was driving my wolf insane.

I'd never felt anything like it. The moment our eyes met, something fundamental had shifted in my universe. She wasn't just beautiful—though she was, scar and all. She was necessary........

My wolf clawed at my control, desperate to shift and tear apart anyone who stood between us and her. The rational part of my mind knew I needed to focus on the fight. 

The primal part only knew she was getting farther away with every passing second.

I took a step toward Logan, blinded by rage.

A wooden club slammed into the back of my skull.

My vision swam. I stumbled, dropping one of my knives. Stars burst behind my eyes, and the world tilted sideways.

"Stay down," a voice hissed.

Another blow hit my ribs, stealing my breath. I hit the dirt hard, tasting earth and blood.

My wolf snarled, trying to force the shift, but my body wouldn't cooperate. The silver in my system fought against my healing, making everything sluggish.

Chains rattled. Before I could shift, before I could fight back, they were binding me. Heavy, rusted iron wrapped around my arms and legs, pinning me to the earth.

The metal stank of wolfsbane and old blood. These chains had bound others before me. How many had died in them?

I coughed, spitting blood. "You're dead! All of you are dead!"

Logan walked over. He shifted back to human form, naked and covered in blood. He looked down at me and laughed.

The sound grated against my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "The Belmont pack has grown weak."

He kicked me in the ribs, and I tasted copper. Something cracked inside my chest—another rib, maybe two.

"Let's go," Logan ordered his men. "The girl is waiting at Port Alvarez. I want to see what she can do."

My blood froze.

The casual way he said it—like she was a toy he'd picked up, an object to be examined—made rage flood through me so intensely I thought I'd black out.

"If you touch her..." I choked out, "I will kill you."

Logan didn't even look back. He just laughed again, signaling his men to retreat. They left us there, bleeding and broken in the dirt.

"I'll do more than touch her, Fletcher," he called over his shoulder. "She's pretty, even with that scar. Might keep her for myself. Or maybe I'll share her with the boys. Haven't decided yet."

His laughter echoed through the trees long after he disappeared.

Silence fell over the road.

Relief washed over me, followed instantly by a wave of pure, unadulterated hatred.

They hadn't finished us off. That was their mistake.

Logan thought we were trash. He thought we weren't a threat.

He was wrong.

"Fletcher."

A groan came from the bushes.

"Carlos," I coughed, forcing my body to heal. 

"You alive?"

"Barely."

My cousin dragged himself into the light. His fur was matted with blood, but his eyes were clear. He'd shifted back, and I could see the damage—deep gashes across his chest, his left arm hanging at an unnatural angle.

"He took her," I whispered, the words tearing at my throat.

"We'll get her back," Carlos grunted, testing his broken leg. It snapped back into place with a sickening pop. 

I closed my eyes, and her face appeared again. The fear in her eyes. The scar that only made her more beautiful. The pull I felt in my chest, like a gravity well.

Even now, miles away, I could feel her. A golden thread connecting us, vibrating with her terror.

"I don't know her name," I said, clutching the dirt. "But she is mine."

"Yours?" Carlos froze, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Mate," I growled. "She is my fated mate."

Carlos's eyes widened. He knew what that meant.

Logan hadn't just kidnapped a random girl. He had declared war on an Alpha. He had stolen the one thing in this world I would burn everything to get back.

"He took her to Port Alvarez," I said, sitting up. The wounds on my back were already knitting together, the itch of supernatural healing driving me forward. "He has a harem there."

The thought of Logan touching her, looking at her... it made my vision turn red. My wolf howled inside me, demanding blood.

"We need a plan," Carlos said, his voice hard. "We can't just walk in there. He has an army."

"Then we get our own," I snapped. "We go back to Centro Villa. We gather the mercenaries. We gather the pack."

"It will be a bloodbath," Carlos warned.

I stood up, wiping the blood from my lip. I looked toward the north, toward Port Alvarez. Toward her.

The mate bond pulsed, and I could feel her fear like it was my own. She was terrified. Hurt. Alone.

I would tear the world apart to reach her.

"Good," I said.

I picked up my knives, the steel glinting in the moonlight. My hands were steady now, purpose replacing pain.

"He thinks he won today. He thinks he broke us."

I turned to Carlos, my wolf rising to the surface, making my eyes glow gold.

"Call the men. We aren't just going to rescue her."

I looked at the horizon, imagining Logan's head on a spike. Imagining his fortress burning, his army scattered, his empire reduced to ash.

"We are going to burn Port Alvarez to the ground."