49

"That's for kissing my mate," Zion growled while Justin picked himself up.

The Beta was furious. He worked his jaw back and forth, kneading the bones back into place. Then with blazing eyes, he swung his fist and connected with Zion's nose. "Yeah? Well, that's for leading Savannah on, you wretched murderer. Now she's been abducted, and it's all your fault!"

Zion could only chuckle, his skin barely bruising despite Justin's strong hit. The pain faded as he healed quickly. "If you really know your Alpha well, you'll realise that nothing can stop her when she sets her mind to something. I highly doubt it's my fault she wanted to hunt me down, and in doing so, placed herself in danger. So if there's anyone to blame, it's you for letting her go on such a reckless mission," Zion growled, his breathing becoming heavier as all this emotion welled up inside him.

He was furious that Savannah had followed him right into danger when he'd done everything he could to distance himself from her, to protect her. "I left her for this very purpose. To keep her safe from me and my demons. Yet what does the crazy shewolf do? Run straight after me into the middle of my war. Now why would she do something so foolish, hm? Running from trouble in paradise?" Zion poked his finger in Justin's chest repeatedly to emphasise his points.

Justin choked on a sarcastic laugh. "Don't you dare call her crazy. And the only reason you left her was because you murdered our lord Councillor in cold blood. Didn't want to face justice so here you are, a fugitive from the law. If you go anywhere near Savannah ever again, I swear I'll--"

"Hey, Zion, we really gotta leave now if you wanna rescue the Alpha," Niko called from inside the house. He appeared at the door with a pack slung over his shoulder, grenades hanging from his belt, and knives strapped to his thighs. Tas, Chayton and Joe flanked him, all solemn and dressed for a fight.

"Rescue?" Justin's bravado faltered when he saw the muscle lined up behind Zion. If the rogue leader's dominance hadn't gotten through to him yet, it certainly did now. Taking a step back, he willed himself to remain standing under the weight of Zion's authority and natural aura of leadership.

"Did you really think I was going to leave Savannah in the hands of that demented psychopath and his horde of mongrels? I'm not going to stop until my mate is safe in my arms," Zion declared, roughly shoving past Justin and out onto the street.

"Don't forget us!" Rivet and Grinder followed, carrying a heavy crate between them. Darek was close on their heels, carrying a smaller wooden box.

"Just what in tarnation are you up to now?" Victor thundered after them.

"We're helping rescue the little Alpha. What's it look like?" Rivet grinned excitedly.

"Yes, but what's in the box?"

"Um, explosives. For the fight," Grinder began explaining, but stumbled when Victor caught up and demanded they stop.

He opened the crate, his eyes widening at the array of grenades, cherry bombs, and sticks of C-4. "Are these illegal imports?"

"Nope. Homegrown, boss." Rivet nodded his head proudly.

"What did I tell you about making bombs under my roof? Didn't the explosion in the supply room last month teach you anything?"

"You'll thank us later!" Grinder called over his shoulder as they quickly shouldered the crate again and hurried after Zion, afraid of being left behind and missing out on the fun of the mission.

Victor shook his head in exasperation before following, afraid his well-meaning but slightly mad friends would blow themselves up if he wasn't there to supervise.

Zion led his crew towards his van, calculating the fastest route to Mirani, when Justin raced after him.

"I came in a chopper. That will get us there so much faster," the Beta suggested, a determined light in his eyes.

"What makes you think I want to travel with you? You tried to steal my girl. If you dare kiss her again—"

Justin grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly to a stop. "Look, I have no idea how you know about that, but I get it. That was a mistake. All on me." He raised his hands in surrender when Zion glared at him. "I'd hoped Savannah felt the same about me, but it's clear she only sees me as a brother. That chipmunk would rather skin me alive than mate me. I guess she feels that being with me would be like being with Uncle Roman."

"Uncle who?" Zion grew even more infuriated when another man marched down the street, a large helicopter whirring in idle behind him.

"This is all your fault!" Former Gamma Roman spat, coming up close and pointing his finger in Zion's face. "If my son isn't alive when I reach him, you're dead!"

"Your son?" Zion easily ducked the punch that soared his way. How many more strangers were going to turn up to this highly secure location and blame him for all the world's problems?

"This is Cale's dad," Justin introduced.

"That explains it," Zion growled lowly.

"Sweet ride," Niko nodded at Roman and his sleek, heavily weaponised transport helicopter. "I've always wanted to ride in a Chinook."

Zion turned to him incredulously, barely restraining himself from exploding. "You planned this?"

Niko grinned. "Just doing what I can to help rescue your girl, boss."

"Unbelievable." Zion rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. Then, turning to Gamma Roman inquisitively, he asked, "How am I supposed to know you're not going to arrest me and take me before the Council if I get in your chopper?"

"And jeopardise any chance of saving my son and Alpha? Don't worry about that now, man. You can face the Council later for all your crimes. I don't care if they crucify you or build you an obelisk. But if you wanna ride along to rescue Savannah and Cale, be my guest." Roman gestured towards his chopper and bowed politely.

Sighing again, Zion stood with hands on hips for a moment as he contemplated the situation. He needed to get to Savannah as soon as possible, and driving his van across the continent would take hours, even days. Who knew what torture his mate would suffer in that time? "Alright, fine. Let's move out!" he commanded, motioning to his men and marching to the helicopter.

"Sure. You're welcome." Roman shook his head and frowned at Zion's back.

Justin slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Uncle, he's just a rogue. Don't expect anything good from him."

The comment earned him a serious glare from Zion, and a heavy silence reigned throughout the entire flight to Mirani. Persia sat quietly staring out the window while Tas, Chayton, and Niko discussed battle plans. They studied the satellite images of the old military compound in the mountains, and after Zion suggested a few changes, they all agreed on a solid plan.

Eventually, they neared the compound and flew low over the trees. A single dirt road wound its way through the rocky terrain, and Zion noticed a lone motorcyclist taking the curves at a breakneck speed. Twin katanas were strapped to the rider's back, and he didn't have to guess at Ayame's purpose. He felt horrible that he'd inadvertently led the Saint's to her club, resulting in the deaths of her brothers. A part of him was glad she was here to avenge her family's deaths.

As he studied the land passing beneath them, he sensed a number of wolves nearby. Scanning the terrain more closely, he saw Tori and a few of her gang members quietly stalking through the dense trees. He conceded it would be good to have her by his side. If this Prince of Vinlarhk was as dangerous and cunning as Persia said, then he would need all the help he could get.

"You all know your mission?" he checked in with each member of his diverse gang. It was strange working with not only wolves from a couple packs, but also a human. Darek had proved himself strong enough to handle this. "Leave no survivors. But remember this--Parthia is mine," he declared as they landed in a small open space a few kilometers from the compound.

They met up with Tori and her gang, and traded plans to consolidate the mission into a single purpose. Their numbers now counted over twenty, so Zion felt confident in standing up to the dirty Saints.

Each man and woman in his team strapped their gear in packs to their bodies, then shifted and ran stealthily the rest of the way up the sloped terrain. Zion's wolf could sense Savannah, could feel her pain, and almost hear the whimpers of her own weak and wounded wolf. Becoming desperate to reach her in time, he pushed himself harder, refusing to let the poison in his own system hold him back any longer.

________________

"Perhaps I can explain."

Zion's body locked in response to the harsh voice. He was still panting hard from the exertion of the fight through the compound, but he was ready for more. He'd come all this way to rescue Savannah, and he wasn't about to give up now.

Her reaction to him had been confusing. First, she'd seemed relieved to see him, and fell into his arms when he released her from the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. She was pale, weak, and obviously fighting whatever poison these demented mongrels had injected into her. But she was okay. She was alive, and that was all that mattered to him. He hadn't realised how scared he'd been for her safety until he saw her, and relief nearly consumed him.

Then she'd apologised, frowning and saying words that made no sense.

You shouldn't have come here.

What did she mean? Didn't she know by now that he'd do anything to keep her safe? Even if she was about to reject him, he wouldn't leave her in the hands of the murderous Prince of Vinlarhk. He could withstand his own heart breaking again, as long as Savannah was safe.

His dad had pulled him aside before they blew up the compound's gates, asking if this was really what Zion wanted to do. Savannah was destined to reject him, so what good would it benefit him to run headlong into the jaws of a powerful wolf whose sole purpose was to kill him? Was saving the shewolf worth it?

Zion didn't even need to respond. He'd promised Savannah he'd always keep her safe, whether or not she still wanted him to.

Now, as Parthia stalked towards them, smirking at the way Zion tucked Savannah behind him, all Zion could think about was ripping his throat out.

"How nice of you to join us," Parthia remarked casually, his devastating smile never once falling from his face even as sounds of fighting continued around them.

It was evident Zion had brought backup, but Savannah couldn't scent or feel who they were just yet. Zion felt her clutch the back of his shirt. The toxin in her bloodstream must still be dampening her senses, and if she was weaker than a human, he'd have to fight even harder to protect her.

"You see, love is a very funny thing," the Prince continued, walking down the rows of benchtops. Glass crunched under his feet, remnants of the small explosions that had knocked beakers and test tubes onto the floor. As he approached Zion slowly, a grin spread across his face. "No matter how much we detest it, deep down we'd do anything for it. Even throw our life away."

"You think I detest love?" Zion asked, sizing up the other wolf and noting how much lethal potential lay beneath the designer clothing and golden adornments. The Prince twisted the rings on his fingers casually, as if reminding everyone he was the wealthiest and most superior man in the room.

Zion just tilted his head, hearing the increasing flutter of Savannah's heart, and wondering what she feared most—the Prince, or what Zion could do to him. It wouldn't take much to unleash the monster inside him, the bloodthirsty urges that could drive him to lethal brutality. He'd killed for less, so what this monster deserved was Zion's worst. The predator inside him screamed for vengeance.

Had Parthia hurt Savannah? Had he threatened her family? Had he tortured her while she was drugged with his poison?

For these crimes alone, Zion would rip his arms off. Yet as Parthia approached, one thought grew prominently in his mind—Leila's death, her last breath, and this man who was responsible for it all.

"Love is what makes me human. You, on the other hand," Zion growled at Parthia, enjoying the way he'd stopped at the intensity of his voice. "Are a monster. A barbaric demon who needs erasing from the face of the earth."

Parthia scoffed. "You think I'm a monster? Look around you. You feed on the fear of others. You relish inflicting pain and suffering on those you deem worthy of it," the Prince said as he waved his hands airly at the fighting going on around them. Zion's team was doing good on their missions, fighting past the blockades set up by the Saints.

Parthia continued, "You hunt them down like the rogue you are, and enact your own brand of justice. I've heard the legends; I know the conquests of the Silver Rogue as he sweeps the continent and pillages territories for whatever he pleases."

Zion remained silent, refusing to play this sick game and instead planning how he was going to get Savannah and his team out of here. Clearly, the Prince wanted a fight. He wanted to rile him up until he had no choice but retaliate. Zion had to make the first move. If he wanted to end this snake, he had to-

"Stop the dramatics, Par," Persia huffed, stepping up beside Zion and crossing her arms. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at her brother. "Can't you see this man is harmless? He doesn't even want your kingdom, so let him go. Stop harassing him or you really will have a war on your hands."

"But my dear sister, that is precisely what I want. Better a war now on his land, then take the fight to our own beautiful country. Do you really want our soil to be painted red with filthy rogue blood? What baffles me is why you're standing on his side? It's almost as if you want our throne to be snatched by a half-blooded mutt who has no respect for our royal history."

"I'm not advocating for anyone to take our throne. I'm standing up for the innocent people who you insist upon hurting. Haven't you done enough? Wasn't taking his mate terrible enough? When will your reign of terror stop? You certainly aren't worthy to sit on the throne. So if not you, then why not Zion?"

Parthia laughed, his eyes sparkling brightly. "You think I'm responsible for that weak shewolf's death? You're a wonder, Persia. Bastien clearly fired the weapon that freed Zion from such an unequal bond. Anyone with half a brain could see she was holding him back. You," he motioned to Zion, "The mighty Silver Rogue who's immune to silver? Why would you want to be saddled with someone so weak and fragile? Consider it a mercy she is gone."

"Leila was my mate!" Zion roared, taking a step forward, his arms flexing and his muscles tightening for a fight.

Savannah moved between them and laid her hand on Zion's chest, over his heart. "Don't. Please. Violence isn't going to end this. It's what he wants—for you to snap first so he can kill you. Zion, please." She tried holding him back from lunging at the grinning Prince.

He eventually tore his murderous eyes from Parthia, and turned towards her, noticing the anguish in her eyes. She was afraid for him, for what could happen if Parthia decided he'd had enough chit-chat. He understood her fear, but she was forgetting that he, technically, should be the most powerful wolf in the room. As the firstborn of the Alpha Queen, and rightful heir to the throne, he should command all dominance over these filthy mutts and even dirtier Prince. So what was stopping him from killing Parthia this very second?

"That's right. Listen to your little Alpha mate. You don't really want to kill me. A cold-blooded murderer isn't who you are deep down, is it?" Parthia spoke coldly, not bothering to disguise the taunt in his words.

"You're right, it's not," Zion agreed. "I'm a killer only on the surface, which is usually enough to get the job done."

Parthia chuckled in the face of his threats. "Go ahead. Let's end this then, shall we?"

"Zion, don't," Savannah stepped in front of him again, standing between the two brothers who both had deadly intent written in every sharp feature of their faces, every muscular ridge of their strong bodies. Both were dangerously close to unleashing the full potential of their strength. "We have enough evidence," Savannah continued. "We can present it to the Council—"

"The Council is a joke!" Zion grunted through clenched teeth. There was only one way for serving true justice over Leila's death, and that was with his own claws.

"It seems we agree on at least something, brother. But..." Parthia stroked his chin, causing Zion's stomach to tighten in dread. There was no predicting what this beast would do next. "Need I remind everyone how you like to treat the Council?"

At a small motioning of Parthia's hand, one of his men stepped forward, pulling a small pistol from his holster and firing.

"No!" Savannah screamed, the blast of the weapon a blur as the deafening clap echoed all around them.

Zion flinched, waiting for the sting of silver against his skin. He wasn't afraid of a bullet, even knowing he was slightly more vulnerable due to the poisoning in Kingston.

When it never came, he frowned. Why was Parthia still grinning so obnoxiously? Clearly his hired dimwit had missed.

"Zion.."

Savannah's soft gasp tore his attention away from the Prince. He turned, his heart becoming like stone at the sight of blood leaking from her stomach. Her hand came up to press on the wound, immediately turning crimson with blood. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock.

Time seemed to slow as his heart raced with horror.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't hold his mate while she died. Not again. Not while his wolf screamed for vengeance.

"Savannah!" Persia cried, catching Savannah as she crumpled to the ground. "Alpha, I've got you."

In his periphery, Zion watched as his sister cradled Savannah, pressing her own jacket over the gunshot wound and stemming the bleeding. With the help of Justin, they dragged her back into their circle of safety.

But no one was safe while Parthia and his men still breathed.

It took Zion two steps to cross the room and rip the pistol from the shooter's hand while slashing his claws across his throat. The wolf dropped, gagging and choking on his own blood.

As he went down, a comrade stepped up and swung a knife in Zion's direction.

Zion nearly laughed at how easy it was to kick the wolf's legs out from under him, and shove his palm up into his jaw with such force that his neck snapped.

Two more jumped on his back, trying to push him down. He fell to his knees and braced himself before rising and throwing them off. The room's structural beams shuddered as the wolves slammed into the walls, shattering the glass windows.

Bullets whizzed past his head, missing their target as he ducked and sidestepped the Saints. He landed a punch in a stomach, smacked the side of a head, spun and kicked another wolf in the guts. They fell like rocks, crumpling under his rage and determination.

Parthia stood across the room, smirking from behind a wall of living shields. The Saints, under his direction, came at Zion one after the other with knives, clubs, swords, stakes and other diverse weaponry.

They all crumpled, broken, bruised, bloodied from the inferno that was Zion.

"Can't even face me on an even playing field?" he called out, taunting Parthia into action. "You hide behind your minions, not wanting to get your own hands dirty. You poison me, drag me down, then stand on the sidelines as your men finish me off? Where's the honour in victory?"

"My honour is in my crown. And will not stand to have a filthy vermin take it from me!"

With his lips twisting in rage, he launched himself into action just as a sword swung through the air behind him.

Zion watched as the blade carved through three men, causing them to howl in pain as they clutched bloody wounds and fell to the ground.

Ayame stood over them, hatred and vindication effusing from every line of her elegant yet lethal stance. She lifted her eyes to meet Zion's. "I've got this," she mouthed.

He nodded in understanding. While she fought the remaining Saints, slaughtering them in return for what they did to her family, Zion focused on his true enemy.

"You really thought you could come here with your rag-tag team, and beat me? A trained prince and rightful heir of Vinlarhk? You're the biggest fool if you—-"

Parthia's taunts were cut short when Zion spun and kicked him in the side of the head. The Prince recovered quickly, rolling and coming up with a side cut to Zion's ribs.

Zion grunted, feeling the grating of broken bones rubbing against each other. With a snarl, he threw himself at his enemy.

The two Alphas circled each other, throwing punches, kicks, and expertly fighting like two deadly predators.

From the corner of his eye, Zion saw Savannah cradled in Justin's arms while Persia worked on stopping the flow of blood. He could only hope she'd last long enough to see him kill Parthia and get justice for everything the monster had done to them.

But with each tackle, each kick and punch, each duck and roll, he felt himself growing weaker. The lingering traces of poison in his system slowed him down, inhibiting a shift into his wolf while impairing his normally heightened senses. It was harder to anticipate the Prince's moves, and harder to retaliate.

Relying on instincts and force had won him many fights in the past, but this wolf was not just some brute in a club or tavern. Persia had warned him that all members of the royal family trained with the Shadows, the elite assassins of the province. They learnt many forms of martial arts and it showed in the refined grace with which the Prince moved and executed the blows to Zion's body.

Against such strength and masterful techniques, Zion would have to rethink his strategy and play the Prince's game.

All his life, he'd played offence. When pups bullied him, he'd knocked them to the ground. When his teenage peers made fun of his father's rogue status behind his back, he'd shown them just how lawless a rogue could be. When Alphas came after him and his family, he'd stopped them in their tracks with his claws and ferocity, earning himself the ruthless reputation that everyone feared. Packs and territories had their guard up for years, trying to defend themselves against the merciless rogue that he'd been proud to call himself.

Until now. Perhaps defence was the only way he'd lure the Prince into complacency. Perhaps, with his guard down, Zion could slip past one sloppy move and end it for good.

He took a few hits, fell to his knees, rolled to his back and felt the gritty floor imprint his cheek as Parthia stomped on his face.

The Prince soon had him by the throat, kneeling on his chest and squeezing the air from his lungs.

While the Prince's eyes were locked greedily on Zion's jugular, Zion swept his arm up and buried a needle in his enemy's neck.

Parthia gasped, his eyes widening in shock as he scrambled up and swayed on his feet. Pulling the needle out, he shook his head as if willing himself to remain unaffected by the poison.

Zion took the opportunity to charge at him, cracking the bones in Parthia's lower legs until he fell to his knees.

Wrapping his large hand around Parthia's neck, he held him up so they were eye-level. The room seemed to grow silent until all Zion heard was his heartbeat echoing in his veins. "Did you really think you could get away with being a monster? You're a bigger fool than Persia made out. Oh yes, she's told me all about your dastardly behaviour towards your people," Zion laughed in Parthia's face, the agonised grunts of the Prince like sweet music to Zion.

"For all those times you abused your own mate Kinza," Zion said, shredding one of Parthia's hands with his extended claws. "And when you refused to hear the cries of her family, demanding justice." He sliced off Parthia's ear, enjoying the spark of fear entering the Prince's eyes. "And each day you closed your eyes to your citizens' needs, instead satisfying your own greed for power and wealth." With his forefinger and thumb, Zion gouged out one of the Prince's eyes. He relished in the expression of pain that twisted the mutilated face of his enemy.

Despite his horrific injuries, the Prince remained standing, and grinned through the blood streaming down his face. "You think this makes you better than me, brother?"

"I am not your brother. And I never wanted to be better than you. I only want to keep my family safe from the beasts of this rotten earth. I actually care about people, unlike you."

"Then go ahead. Finish me!" Parthia growled out, his body swaying as he struggled to remain upright even as Zion held his neck. "That's what you want, isn't it? Revenge for your mate's death? So kill me, and show the whole world the rogue you really are. The monster you can't help being." He spat, blood pooling behind his lips as it rose from his crushed throat.

Zion kept his grip tight, his eyes trained on the murderer whose life was finally in his hands. It would be so easy to end him, to remove this scum from the face of the planet so he could no longer hurt anyone ever again.

"Zion, don't!'

He heard Savannah gasp, but didn't dare turn to look at her. All he'd see would be blood staining her clothes crimson, her life draining away and taking his soul with it. He couldn't relive those nightmares. Better to focus on the killer who'd created that endless terror.

"Don't kill him, Zion. Don't give in to what he wants," Persia spoke firmly, coming up behind him. Her hand tugged urgently on his arm. "He will face justice for his crimes, I'll make sure of it. But you don't have to be his executioner."

"Yes, do it. Kill me!" Parthia choked the words out.

"You'll only be letting him win." Persia's words were hurried, but soft. They buzzed around in Zion's mind, refusing to make sense when all he could see was the anger and pain condensed in the monster before him. He needed to end him, and end the torment inside. "He took your mate, but don't let him take your life too. Don't let him destroy what you have left," Persia pleaded, her voice desperate.

Of course, she was just trying to save her brother. It was in her blood to protect her own family.

But wasn't he her brother, too? Wasn't their bond strengthening in a way he'd never anticipated? Could she really be telling the truth, and trying to help him?

"Don't listen to her," Parthia smirked, gasping for air. "Just... kill me!"

"Zion...."

Savannah's weakening voice was a faint whisper, barely reaching him, but it entered the depths of his very heart and twisted like an elizenthium knife in a medical examiner's hand. The agony was pure, white hot pain.

Zion growled, the sound low and deadly in his chest, before growing in pitch and volume. It rattled the remaining windows, shuddering the door frames and bouncing off the walls in teeth-chattering reverberation.

As the impossibility of the situation peaked, his indecision melding with all his desires and emotions, he threw his head back and screamed as loud as his broken soul could.