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Chase
The letter is left on my porch.
I’ve just stepped outside, checking my cell to see if Aria messaged when I freeze. The plain red envelope rests on the ground, blank yet full of malice. I pick it up, not bothering with gloves. I already know who it’s from.
That my fingerprints will be the only ones on it.
The single piece of paper inside is neatly typed with a short message.
I've met her. Beautiful, strong—I can see why you can’t stay away. Hope she doesn’t end up like her brother. I imagine she likes keeping all her limbs.
I'll be in touch.
“Fucker,” I growl, resisting the urge to crumple the letter. There’s more in the envelope—photos.
Gruesome photos.
Images of mangled bodies, one of a woman covered with bedsheets and another of a bloodied bandage on what remains of someone's leg. There are more, more victims than just the ones at the bordello.
I ring Zayn, my breath sawing in and out of my chest as I work to control the rage exploding through every muscle and sinew. The need to hunt Bane down right here, right now, is overwhelming.
Zayn picks up and I speak before he gets a chance. “He left a letter on my porch.”
Right at my front door. Which means that Bane knows where I live, and that Aria's with me. The only saving grace is the fact that I was the one who received this letter instead of her.
There’s a pause. “The bastard has a sense of humor,” Zayn growls.
“Yet I’m not laughing.” I stride to my car, my wolf dangerously close to the surface. “He also sent photos. There are other victims.”
“You bringing it in?”
“I will.” Unlocking my car, I throw the envelope and its contents on the opposite seat. “But first I need to speak to Aria. Bane has sent me a warning.”
The pictures were for me, to remind me what I have at stake.
“This guy has balls,” Zayn muses. “Taking on the Big Bad Wolf.”
“I've ended stronger shifters than Bane.”
Even as I spit out the words, I know that's not something I want to do in front of Aria. The rules of the city are far different than the rules of the wilderness. She wouldn’t understand.
“For now, all we can do is wait for his next move,” I finish.
We hang up and I draw in a deep breath. It does little for the fury raging like a wildfire, so I do it again. It still doesn’t fucking help.
But I can’t ring Aria like this. Not when the urge to shift, to kill, is so strong.
My baser instincts have never been so hard to control. So easily triggered. Loving Aria is the difference. The drive to protect her is instinctive. Primal. A deep-seated urge I’m struggling to control.
The sound of a car slowing down catches my attention, and I spin around, my nails stretching into claws. Bane is bold enough to confront me in broad daylight.
I almost welcome it.
Except it’s Andre who pulls up and steps out, his brow furrowed. He stops when he sees me beside my car, then walks toward me. “I’m glad I caught you.”
I arch a brow, not sure I feel the same. Although I like the man who runs the Wild Heart company, Andre isn’t usually the bearer of good news.
He reaches me and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I found out that Aria is going back to that club again.”
