46

A shiver of fear ran down Savannah's spine at Talei's chilling words. "Lucifer? The leader of Hell's Saints? Whad dush he wahh wifff..." her voice trailed off, her tongue refusing to form the words. The cocktail of poison was working quickly to paralyse her muscles, the silver and elizenthium successfully inhibiting her healing abilities. She watched the world spin around her, shadows advancing. Rough arms grabbed her, and no matter how hard she tried to throw them off, she only felt herself flailing uselessly around, helpless to the enemies surrounding her.

"Put her in the car." Talei's voice was distant, demanding.

"No! Waaait!" Savannah dragged her feet, refusing to give up. Where was Niko? Cale, Darek and Joe? Had they already escaped the ambush? Been shot by the Saints? Was no one left to rescue her? "Zion!" The name was wrenched from the depths of her heart. If anyone could feel the danger she was in, it would be the other half of her soul. If anyone could keep her safe, it was her mate. "Zion, help me..." she cried pathetically.

"Savannah? Savannah, hold on!"

His deep voice broke roughly through the fog in her mind. Like the first sunbeams after a dangerous storm, the growing sense of his presence awoke her from the mind-numbing stupor of poison. "Zion, please! I'm here.."

"Savannah, I'm coming!"

She saw him across the street even as the Saints dragged her towards the car. Zion was coming for her, still in his masterful disguise, yet recognisable by the light in his eyes, the hazel hues she'd grown to love, the lips she knew better than her own, and the broad shoulders that no amount of woolen cardigans could cover.

But he was surrounded much like her. Men in black fatigues with hooded faces and deadly weapons fired at him, tackled him, and punched him as hard as they could. And despite his physique that was stronger than any Alpha she knew, he couldn't seem to fight his way past them.

Gunshots split the air, and Savannah watched as a shewolf--potentially Willow--threw herself in front of him. She immediately crumpled, clearly having sustained the shot meant for Zion.

Savannah felt sick at the sight. The Hell's Saints walked over the fallen shewolf and aimed at Zion point blank. With rapid fire, they riddled his body with bullets until he dropped to his knees. He struggled, shoving his feet under him, pushing himself up and wrestling the men who held him down.

Through tears and blurry vision, Savannah could only watch helplessly as he fell again under their collective strength. They must be using the same deadly mix of poison on him, and a sinking feeling bloomed in her stomach and sank its claws into every inch of her body.

Talei had tricked them all, outsmarted even the smartest minds. What was her plan? How were they supposed to get out of this mess?

"Zion..." Her voice was a pathetic whimper as her eyes remained locked with his, bound in a gaze so fierce it scorched her insides. He was on his knees, held back by the Saints as they tied his arms behind his back, but the desperation in his expression was enough to rip her heart in two.

She reached out to him, her palm trapped behind the rear windscreen of the car as it drove her down the street, taking her further away from the only man who could save her. He'd done it once, when she was burnt and broken from the rogue wars, but could his touch even save her now from the deadly poison in her bloodstream?

"Savannahhhhh...." His voice faded as he too tried to reach across the distance, but she could no longer see him. Feeling his torture and guilt at being unable to reach her hurt as badly as her own pain. But as the distance between them increased, it faded as the poison raged in her body even more brazenly.

Then the world blackened as she was dragged into its lethal embrace.

__________________

"Not so strong now, are ya Alpha?"

The cruel words were accompanied by a solid kick to her stomach. Instinct curled her into a tight ball, blocking out the world that slowly crept into her awareness.

Savannah gritted her teeth as another kick to her back snapped her senses awake, fiery pain tingling along her nerve endings.

"Such a cry baby. Look at those tears!" Taunting voices hooted and growled with laughter.

Her fingers found her cheeks and hastily swiped, finding trails of moisture leaking from her eyes. Maybe it was from the pain that rocked her to the core; maybe it was from the loneliness that pervaded her entire being; maybe it was from the knowledge her pack was miles away, her mate overpowered by their enemies; or the hopelessness of her situation that had her crying, but Savannah sucked in a painful breath and refused to let another tear fall.

Fully awake now, she felt the cold surface beneath her palms, grimy and gritty with sharp bits of dirt and rocks, and pushed herself to a sitting position.

A dull light emanated from her left, a bare bulb illuminating the entire room that looked like an underground cellar. A few boxes were stacked against one wall on steel shelving, a row of benchtops lined the other, topped with odd tools, bits and pieces. Rusted metal parts littered the floor behind her while a single exit presented itself in the shape of a nondescript door directly in front of her.

But between it and her were seven roughened wolves, a couple of humans, and plenty of flexing muscle. These men were clearly eager for round two. She wasn't worried so much about their brawn and menacing scowls as the weapons that dangled from every hand and hung from most waistbands.

Knives were strapped to thighs, blades tucked neatly into shoulder holsters, and silver daggers tossed in the air by impatient fingers sent shivers of ice down her spine. Any hope of making it past these men in her weakened state was doused like someone had dumped a bucket of frigid water over her entire body, then bundled her up and tossed her into Falcon River during winter.

"Sayin your prayers, are ya Darlin?" one man leaned into her face and teased, his breath like rotten mangoes. "Ain't nobody gonna hear ya, not in this hell hole."

"Hell hole, haha!" another laughed, finding his words hilarious for some reason.

Then she remembered-- Hell's Saints. The brutal gang led by an enigmatic wolf who called himself Lucifer. The man who Zion theorized had set up the hit on him and his mate. The man for whom Talei had betrayed her and handed her over to.

"Where's Talei?" Thoughts of the blonde rogue were hazed with red, and the Alpha could think of nothing beyond sending her fist flying into the traitor's face.

"So, she speaks!" One of the gang threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world to hear an Alpha talking.

Looking down at herself, at the blood stains on her clothes, the still-bleeding wounds on her skin, and the bruises blooming on her fingers and wrists, she didn't have to wonder why. She marveled at the satin sheen to her moonlight-pale skin. It was like staring at a piece of paper marred with blotches of black and blue, chewed up and spat out by a rebellious printing machine.

"Where is Talei?" she tried again, meeting dark eyes and filthy grins. Maybe if she drew the attention of the shewolf, someone might be stupid enough to pit them against each other. Then, the Alpha would have a wonderful chance of getting out of here alive. There was no way she'd let Talei walk away after such cruel betrayal.

"Probably pampering dear old Lucifer. That crazy dog will do anything for his attention," someone said, drawing cackles and gruff laughs from the rest.

In their moment of distraction, Savannah pushed to her feet and charged, only realising halfway through a roundhouse kick that her hands were tied together. Her momentum sent her foot colliding with someone's jaw, but then she dropped like a stone onto her own face. Before she lost any teeth to the bare concrete ground, she managed to roll and spread the impact across her shoulder and back.

It was pointless however, as three men were instantly on top of her, hauling her to her feet only to knock her down with a slap to each cheek and a kick to the guts.

Blood sprayed the concrete, a metallic taste filling her mouth as she choked on the onslaught of stomach fluids that rose up. She'd only just managed to turn around and throw a punch of her own when the door flew open.

"What's going on in here?"

The stranger's voice was angrier than any she'd heard yet. Standing on wobbly feet, she eyed the men who'd frozen at the appearance of the newcomer. She winced and slowly pulled the blade of a silver knife from her belly, flinging it to the ground with a horrible clatter before lifting her eyes to the man by the door.

He was younger than she expected. Tall, well-built, and almost handsome in a dark, intriguing kind of way. His skin was olive, kissed by genetics as well as the sun. His eyes were unusually bright, glittering with chips of emerald set in a sea of jade, while his thick black hair was neatly styled back. Dark stubble enhanced his sharp jawline, while mysterious tattoos trailed down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his leather jacket.

"I said keep her safe!" he roared, crossing the room in only a few strides. The men shrank back from his thundering voice, clearly surrendering under the dominance he exuded.

Savannah lowered her head, steeling herself for more pain and preparing for retaliation, but when a gentle hand wrapped around her arm and tugged her to her feet, she looked up in confusion.

"I'm terribly sorry about these mongrels. I never meant for this to happen to you," he said, contrition written in his devastating features. "Come. This is no place for an Alpha."

Then with a gentle tug, he led her through the men who eyed her maliciously but remained rooted to their spots, hands clenched but non-threatening as they hung by their sides.

As Savannah and the tall stranger left the dark cellar and began climbing a flight of stairs, weariness washed over her like a tidal wave. Without an immediate threat, the surge of adrenaline waned and her body sagged in a desperate request for rest. She stumbled, and the next moment she was swept up into the stranger's arms.

She wanted to jump away, knowing this was likely the very man who'd commissioned her abduction, but she could barely breathe without sharp pain like knives slicing through her lungs. There was no way she could run; nowhere she could go without him dragging her back for his own cruel purposes.

When he finally reached his destination and placed her down on her feet, she looked around at the expansive suite he'd placed her in. It was modern and classy with plush black carpet on the floor, a king bed on one side while a settee and desk were arranged on the other, pillows and floor rugs creating inviting spaces between while the walls were lined with bookshelves and decorated with abstract art. Most surfaces were decorated with tasteful pieces.

"It isn't much, but I hope you like it. Please, refresh yourself in the bathroom," the tall stranger said gently, his deep voice rumbling while he motioned to an ensuite that opened up to her left. White towels and a robe hung by the door, and the marble sink was laden with soaps and potions that would surely soothe her battered skin.

"Who are you?" She turned to him, spinning so quickly she almost fell right over.

His hand was instantly on her arm, steadying her. "I think you have a good idea of the answer to that already."

"The crazy gang boss who calls himself Lucifer?"

He tipped his head back and laughed. "I like you Savannah, a lot." His eyes twinkled as they collided with hers. "But I think you'll find I'm not crazy. Now, I'll be back in an hour to talk."

With those final words, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Savannah alone and with a thousand more questions than answers. Clearly, if she wanted to find out anything, she had to play his game.

And that's what she had to keep telling herself as she soaked in a heavenly bath with scents of rose and lavender infusing her body sensuously--that this was a game. That he didn't care about her wellbeing despite what his kind voice and gentle touch suggested.

He'd abducted her and likely treated Zion to the same rough handling that she'd received. No amount of pampering could make up for the trauma she'd been through.

When a knock sounded on her door a little while later, she made sure she was thoroughly decent before opening it.

The handsome stranger entered on the heels of a woman pushing through a cart of covered food. Once she'd left, he stood by the table it was laid upon and motioned her closer.

"Here, sit down with me and eat. I think you'll like what I have prepared for you." Lucifer motioned to the table set for two, steaming dishes emitting tantalizing aromas that did nothing but churn her sickened stomach.

"I'm not hungry."

Lucifer appraised her with an offended frown to his expression. "Then at least have this tonic," he implored, lifting a small glass half filled with a white, milky liquid. "It binds with silver and will remove it from your bloodstream."

She almost laughed at his suggestion. It seemed as though he was concerned for the poison circulating her body, contrary to the fact he'd ordered it there in the first place. "I don't trust you," she replied bluntly.

He chuckled lowly as if her answer was expected. Then he marched across the room to a side table she hadn't yet noticed. It was covered with a tray of crystal decanters filled with liquids in varying amber shades, and a couple of small glasses besides. "Perhaps you'd rather a drink. To calm your nerves," he said softly, watching her carefully while pouring a glass.

His scrutiny was hot on her skin, making the hair prickle on the back of her neck and her hackles to rise. Folding her arms, she lifted her chin in defiance to his obvious attempt at controlling every part of this situation. "I don't drink."

The soft smile slipped from his face and hardened into a steely glare. After tipping back the glass and drinking it in two gulps, he stared at her again with darkened eyes, the vein in his neck throbbing.

He could surely hear the hammering of her heart as it beat wildly in her chest, as she anticipated his next move.

"Damn it, Savannah!" He suddenly cursed and threw the empty glass against the wall.

She jumped at the discordant sound of shattering pieces falling to the ground. Then rage spiked in her blood. "Call me Alpha!" Urging herself forward, she stood up to him. "I'm Alpha Savannah!"

He stared back, looking down his nose at her as he took deep breaths. His anger eased, the prominent vein in his neck ceasing to pulse so noticeably. Closing his eyes briefly, he exhaled then gave her a small smile.

Under the weight of his eyes, she felt hers forced to drop. Struggling to stand up to his overwhelming dominance, she wondered for the tenth time exactly who this wolf was. Why was his power so strong? What was his heritage, and why was it so hard to fight? His physical strength was equally matched by these mind games he played with her.

"How's that working out for you, Alpha?" he asked smugly, an eyebrow arching in question.

She felt like slapping the sarcastic smirk off his face, but her hand remained glued to her side. In a weak voice, she asked, "Who are you really?"

"The better question is, who is your mate?"

She physically recoiled at his abrupt change of subject. Narrowing her eyes on Lucifer, she answered emphatically, "He's my mate, that's who he is."

Lucifer tilted his head and sighed disappointedly. "What's an Alpha like you doing with a rogue like him? Isn't that against your precious rules?" he asked with a lazy smile.

Shaking her head, Savannah swallowed the bile that rose with the pain in her chest. "I don't care that he's a rogue. No matter what he's done, or how many crimes and sins he's committed, he is still mine and I won't rest until we are together." Just talking about her determination to claim her mate gave Savannah the strength she needed to stand up to this enigmatic wolf.

"Is that what he wants, though?" Lucifer prodded, pointing out the deep-rooted fear that most days Savannah refused to acknowledge. "Why would a wild, restless and deadly rogue tie himself down to someone like you?"

She tried not to let the insult of his words cut too deep. Of course, the leader of a ruthless gang would jeer at her righteous title of Alpha. "He cares about me. He promised he'd join my pack someday. I'm sure you, a heartless gang boss, could never understand feelings like that."

A cold smile grew on Lucifer's face. "Oh, but I'm counting on them. You see, I want Zion to care about you so much, that he won't let you go. He'll search the ends of the earth for you, and eventually find you here. Then, when he arrives, I'll finally have my chance and kill him."

Savannah kept her face neutral, neither laughing at his preposterous declaration, nor shuddering at the ominous tone he made it with. "Just what did Zion do to you to warrant such strong hatred? Why go so far as kill him?" she asked, contemplating the numerous ways she might escape this dangerous lunatic.

She knew Zion had a reputation as a ruthless killer, causing death and destruction wherever he went. And even though that wasn't truly the man she'd come to know, of course he still had enemies wanting his blood. She just had to figure him out, find Lucifer's vulnerability, and beat him at his own game.

"It isn't what he's done to me. It's about what he might do in the future. I'm preventing him from ruining my life," Lucifer responded in a smooth voice, so casually that it took Savannah a moment to realise what he was saying.

"So you're just going to preemptively kill him before he even does anything to hurt you? You really are a psycho."

"Why, Alpha, how am I any different to you? Aren't you in the business of killing rogues the moment they step across your border? You even almost killed Zion before knowing what he meant to you, all because his beastly reputation preceded him." Lucifer laughed as Savannah's face grew hot, a blush rising up her cheeks at the truth in his words. "Am I not allowed the same prerogatives?"

While he was speaking, Savannah quickly turned and had wandered over to the table, making a show of perusing the food. But with her back to Lucifer, she lifted a knife and concealed it in her palm.

"You and I are nothing alike," she whispered lowly as she turned to him, throwing the knife at her captor with as much force as her weakened body allowed.

Lucifer chuckled as he caught it mid-air. "You do realise this is only steel—"

His words were abruptly cut short when Savannah's foot slammed into the side of his head.

He stumbled to the side, and Savannah used the opportunity to punch him in the stomach. Her fists were feeble, but she pulled the other back to increase force for a second hit.

Lucifer recovered quickly and blocked her next attack, and every one after. Pushing her back, he quickly wrestled her into the chair by the table. His grip was tight as he pinned her wrists to the armrests.

"You'll have to try harder next time," he taunted, turning his head to spit blood on the floor from a cut lip.

Savannah seethed, trying with every last ounce of strength to cover her laboured breathing and the hitch in every breath. Her ribs, probably broken in several places from the earlier beating, felt like they were on fire.

"You're bleeding," Lucifer remarked grimly, looking down at her stomach. A crimson patch was seeping through the white robe she'd wrapped tightly around her waist.

"I'm okay," she spat through gritted teeth.

"No, you're not. Let me—"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed in his face when his hands began untying the robe. She batted them away, using her feet to kick him further from her.

He immediately stood back and held up his hands. "Okay, I won't. Suit yourself. If you bleed out from silver poisoning and flesh wounds, don't blame me."

"You're a sick jerk," Savannah responded, her eyes never leaving his as he began pacing the room restlessly. "And you still haven't explained how Zion could ruin your future."

"Oh, that's quite simple." Lucifer rubbed his hands together. "Perhaps you will understand if I introduce myself formally."

Savannah lifted her eyebrows and glared at him. "Please do." She leaned back in the chair, pressing a hand to her stomach and willing herself to stop bleeding.

"I realise most people know me as the sinister gang boss, Lucifer. But that is just an alias."

"No kidding."

He huffed at her sarcastic interruption, glaring sternly at her for a moment before continuing. He placed a hand over his chest and stood tall. "I am Prince Parthia, heir to the throne of Vinlarhk."

Savannah almost fell off her chair at his blunt revelation, but 'Lucifer' continued as if he was just discussing the price of oil stocks.

"I have spent my entire life preparing to lead my people and rule over my kingdom. Every day in lessons; every afternoon training in physical skills. I've attended every meeting my father deemed necessary; networked with all the right people. I've made connections, formed bonds and agreed upon deals. I've worked harder than anyone I know, doing everything expected of me as the heir of Vinlarhk. Yet still," he raised his fist in the air as if delivering the conclusion of a momentous oration, "Still, they don't give me the respect I deserve. The ministers turn down my bills in parliament. The advisors are always telling me what I can and cannot do. The people whisper behind my back in the streets."

"Oh, let me get out my violin," Savannah muttered, stifling a yawn behind her hand. In truth, she was riveted to his story, finally making sense of his superiority and dominance over her. Only an Alpha of royal blood could be stronger than other Alphas.

"I'm being serious." The Prince leaned close and hissed in her face, his tone almost a snarl. "Even my dear sister, bless her heart, can't stop lecturing me about my reckless behaviour. As if she knows anything about what being a royal actually entails. She prances around the territory and even this wretched continent, playing dress up to disguise herself while she has her fun. But I digress." The Prince shook his head and resumed pacing once more. "My point is, I'm ready to take on the mantle of king, but are my parents willing to hand over the kingdom to me? No!"

Savannah jumped at his thunderous voice, watching in astonishment as the Prince—the actual Prince of Vinlarhk—ranted and raved in front of her.

"I still don't see the connection with-- with Zion," she stammered, swallowing to relieve her dry throat before continuing, "Why would someone so prominent and highly ranked as you bother yourself with a measly rogue?" There was nothing measly about Zion, she just wanted to diminish him in the eyes of this snobbish and insidiously cruel Prince as much as possible, in the hopes he'd forget his vendetta and stop hunting him down.

"Oh, you still don't know a thing about your darling mate, do you?"

The sadistic tone in his voice combined with the dark glint in his eyes sent chills down Savannah's spine.

When he leaned over her once more and rested both hands on her chair, she subtly drew back.

"The elders can dispute this all they want, but I have proof," he whispered in a conspiratorial voice that was tainted with disgust. His lip curled in a smirk. "My charming, naive little Savannah. The reason I want Zion dead is because he's my bastard older brother."