chapter 2

Gannon “Do you have any idea what you have just done?” he snarls at me. “She has a right to know!” I retort. “You disobeyed a fucking order! I told you not to get her involved!” he snaps at me, his aura growing more potent by the second as I fight the urge to submit to it. “And what about Abbie? Ivy may be the only one who can make Abbie see sense. Abbie trusts her,” I tell him. “That may be so, but now you have just caused me a giant fucking headache. I didn’t want to deal with this right now. Not when she is so goddamn close to going into heat, and the bond has just fucking forged! I had to fucking command her, Gannon!” he yells at me. I did not make him command her. That is on him. Just as every bad decision he has made when it comes to Ivy is. “You didn’t have to do anything, Kyson. You chose to command her because you don’t like being challenged, so don’t blame that on me!” I tell him. I understand his reasoning for not wanting to break the laws he created. We have laws even the king must abide by, and until Abbie asks to come back, his hands are tied entirely unless he wants a war with all the nearby packs. And he already has enough enemies without adding them to that list. Yet I wasn’t asking him to break those laws. I would do it so it wouldn’t come back on him. “I know you are mad, but we can’t afford this crap right now. You want something to do, go back to Silver Creek!” the king snaps at me. What use would it be of going back there? I have already whipped Mrs. Daley an inch from her life for what those girls endured at her hands. He shakes me, and I try to shake his grip off. “I already got that bitch. She can’t walk for god’s sake! What the fuck else could I possibly do to her?” I snarl at him “Not Daley. But make sure she is dead before you return home. I have another job for you while we wait for Abbie to come back,” he says, his voice dropping low and the cruel glint in his eyes tells me whatever he is about to tell me is going to be bad. “No, Kyson. Not while he is like this,” Damian says, but the king smiles. “You want revenge? Then take it out on the butcher. Daley will know his name,” the king tells me. I furrow my brows, wanting to know what wild goose chase he is sending me on now. “The butcher?” Damian asks, and the king nods and looks at Damian over his shoulder before he turns back to face me. My heart nearly stops at his next words. “Yes. He’s Abbie’s rapist,” the king growls, letting me go. I blink at him, taking in his words, and my stomach plunges somewhere deep and cold within me. Rapist? Someone raped my Abbie? Now thinking back to how odd Abbie was with touch and nudity when I would take her on a run. The scars on her hips and thighs, when it dawns on me. It suddenly makes sense, I thought at first maybe those scars were self-inflicted. Now I see them differently. My entire body trembles as my blood boils, my canines slip free of my gums and my claws extend and the noise that leaves me is more of a savage roar, as burning rage and disgust forces my shift. I want him to take his words back. I need to unhear them. I don’t want the picture of her so vulnerable and helpless like that stuck in my head. Someone touched her, did unspeakable things to her, and they are still breathing? Some part of me tries to tell me I heard him wrong. However, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me I heard right, still I ask. “He did what to my Abbie?” I snarl. “I won’t repeat it. It wasn’t my place to say, but I was planning to tell you, anyway. Find Daley, and you will know where to find the butcher,” the king tells me and my eyes dart to Damian, who looks at me just as horrified by this information. I turn my gaze back to the king. “I’m not bringing him in,” I warn him. My eyes flicker as a coldness settles over me, so strong I think it will freeze my heart at the horrors my girl has had to endure. The butcher will wish for death long before I grant it. “He’s all yours,” the king tells me as I try to breathe around my burning fury. Turning on my heel, I leave, slamming the door behind me. Walking back to my quarters, I head for Liam’s room, knowing he is sleeping since he came off the night shift. My hangover is now long gone, and I am finding it hard to shift back. Shoving his door open, I rip his blanket off, and he groans, opening his eyes before noticing me shifted standing above him. Liam sits up. “What is it?” he asks, rubbing his eyes. “We’re going hunting,” I tell him, and he smirks instantly.