Lucian’s POV “Vance,” I called out, my voice low and rough. My cane struck the ground once, steadying me. “Has the location been confirmed?” Vance stiffened somewhere to my right. I heard the shift in his boots, the slight catch in his breathing. “Yes, Alpha. Two rogues are in the old storehouse.” The three workers, the ones who had begged and pissed themselves while claiming they were “just cleaning the cells,” were already dead. The last one's body still swayed gently from the ceiling, like a broken puppet dripping slowly onto the stone floor. But before I ended him, he had talked. He had spilled everything in broken, sobbing words. The rogues who had kidnapped and sold Avery at the auction were operating from an old storehouse three miles west of the black river near the abandoned mill. He had given me names, routes, and even a rough description of the place. It sounded real. Detailed enough to chase. I had listened to every desperate syllable while the bond screamed in
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