All Chapters of BLOODBOUND: The Wolf, The King and The Killer: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Author's POVKade had always been cautious. Not paranoid—he hated that word—but cautious. Calculated. Prepared. Tonight, though, as his tires hissed against the wet asphalt of the highway, there was an uneasy silence riding with him in the car. The kind that gnawed at the back of the mind like a splinter refusing to surface.He glanced down at his phone for the fifth time in twenty minutes, the same message still displayed in bold letters across his locked screen."Urgent. Meet me. Location attached. —Azar"No emoji. No sign-off. No formality. Just that.The timing was off. Azar wasn’t the type to reach out so abruptly. He was measured. Cold, but meticulous. Still, Kade had chosen to believe that perhaps Azar had finally grown a spine after the council’s last disaster. Maybe Zev had gotten to him. Maybe they were finally going to clean up the mess before Varric or someone else aired their secrets.He took the next exit. The location was a secluded pull-off po

Rhett's POVI stepped into the dimly lit interrogation room, the scent of blood and disinfectant stinging my nose. The heavy metal door groaned shut behind me, sealing us in like two animals left to gnaw at each other’s truths. Varric was chained to the metal chair in the center of the room, his wrists cuffed and his legs bound. He looked worse than I remembered—face hollow, eyes sunken, his once perfectly combed hair a greasy mop clinging to his forehead.“Rhett,” he rasped, his voice barely holding together. “I asked for this meeting because I have information you’ll want to hear.”I crossed my arms, refusing to take a seat. “You better start talking before I decide your tongue isn’t worth the air it breathes.”He let out a wheezy laugh. “Always the dramatic one.”I didn’t flinch. “Try me, Varric.”His amusement faded. The man straightened up with effort, wincing as his back protested. “The Shadow Assassins… they’re not gone.”I tilted my head. “What ar

Rhett's POVThe hallway was quiet, far too quiet for what I had in mind. I adjusted the cuffs of my jacket as I walked toward the elevator, each step heavier than the last. My fingers were clenched at my sides, the cold fury simmering just beneath my skin. Killian walked a step behind me, phone to his ear, voice low but tense.“They’ll be in the chamber in twenty minutes,” he murmured after ending the call.“Good,” I muttered, jaw tightening. “Make sure the doors are locked when I arrive. No one leaves until I say so.”He gave a curt nod, not bothering to ask questions. Smart move.I hadn’t slept since the meeting with Varric. His words echoed in my head, slicing through everything else. Madame is alive. The woman who was supposed to be dead. The woman who orchestrated some of the bloodiest massacres in the underground world. The same woman whose body was never recovered after the compound exploded. The very same woman who led the shadow assassins—ghosts who were

Author's POV The room was silent, except for the soft hum of machines and the faint beeping of monitors. Nikolai lay in the middle of it all—still, pale, and unmoving—his chest rising and falling with the gentle aid of the ventilator. Days had turned into weeks since the attack. Since his body had been torn apart by savagery, blood loss, and whatever tampering had followed. And though time crawled painfully forward, his condition remained unchanging. Or so it seemed.Dr. Emil Vargas entered the room with slow, quiet steps. He wasn’t supposed to be on duty that morning, but he couldn’t stay away. Not when Nikolai’s case had become something personal. Something haunting. The young man had endured too much to be stuck in limbo. And Vargas had done all he could medically—but he kept coming back, hoping for a miracle. For something. Anything.He checked the monitors out of habit, even though the data hadn’t shifted in days. Oxygen levels steady. Heart rate normal. Brain acti

Author's POVTension weighed heavy in the dimly lit underground chamber where the female assassin paced restlessly. Her boots tapped against the cold cement, the sound rhythmic and sharp, a stark contrast to the low murmurs coming from her team who gathered around a table littered with blueprints, maps, and surveillance photographs. The air was humid, suffocating, but none of them seemed to care. They were used to it—this kind of darkness, the stench of gunpowder and secrets.Her name was Kaelara, though most knew her only as “the Widow.” Tall, sleek, and ruthless, her eyes burned with a feral resolve as she reviewed the plans once more. Her group—composed of elite mercenaries, hackers, and stealth operatives—had been moving from one hidden location to another since their last near-exposure. Every step now had to be calculated.She leaned forward, eyes narrowing on a digital projection of two buildings displayed on a tablet—the twin hospitals where Declan and Nikolai wer