Mercer

"Hey, Sugar."

Something sardistic rumbled in my gut as I picked off the shredded school bag still hanging off her little seat. My gaze flicked over to the claw marks gouged into the desk.

It wasn’t difficult to guess what had happened.

"Cellphone’s still in there," Quinlan said with deadly softness.

Yes. It was. Which meant the fucking tracker was useless. The blue dot that was the cellphone we’d purchased her had been blinking in the same spot all day, and it was now seven in the evening.

Where the hell was she? This wasn’t like her.

Jericho gripped my collar and wrenched me into him. "If anything happens to her—"

"Fuck off," I snapped. "Just because you developed a conscience overnight doesn’t make you a saint."

Quinn, ever the pacifist, came in between us before Jericho crushed my windpipe. "Maybe she bolted. I mean... would you blame her?"

"Doesn’t fucking matter," Jericho muttered, movements jerky and agitated. "Need to find her. She could be anywhere. Things are too volatile right now for her to be just... anywhere. We need to get Soren."

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I watched them Quinn go.

I didn’t want him anywhere near her. It was an unnecessary jealousy, but knowing he’d had a feel of her when all I constantly got from her was hatred was an irritating rash I couldn’t get rid off.

They taught us to learn to share. They taught us that we could co-exist with one woman. Even the Goddess hadn’t restricted her vessel to one man. So it made sense that our females didn’t. And possessive as we were, it was supposed to be alright.

The Convergence bond between us should’ve made it alright.

Bull-fucking-shit.

I didn’t like to share. Soren sure as hell didn’t. Jericho even less. Quinlan... well, he’d always had questionable indulgences.

Red pulsed at the edges of my mind, the need to go ahead, find her alone and punish her for making me feel this way nearly overwhelming me.

I wanted her all to myself. But I couldn’t have her.

My life had been panned out for me from the moment I was born and the priestess had seen the stars that aligned me to Soren.

For all of mother’s lack of acknowledgment for her bastard son, she kept me on a tight leash. Perhaps it was for the fear that I would become the tyrant my father had been, but she had the idea that if she could control me, she could control the outcome to fit her ideals.

She wouldn’t accept me as her son, but I wouldn’t bring disgrace to her, either.

It was a slimy, shit position.

I didn’t dare want things. If I did, she took them away. Broke them. Bastards didn’t get to want things. I should’ve been thankful she hadn’t aborted me with a fucking iron hanger. That was as gracious as she would be. And for my pussy father’s sin, I had to make it up to her by doing whatever she wanted.

Fuck who she wanted me to fuck. Spy on my own brothers. Lie. Steal. Kill.

I wasn’t a person. I was a fucking mercenary. Jericho was much like me in that aspect. We’d spent all of our lives killing for the crown, killing for the race, ensuring Her Majesty and His Royal Prickly Highness never had to fight the dirty battles.

Was Soren’s life any easier than mine?

Fuck no.

Having to whore yourself out constantly to whoever the fuck wanted a piece of you under the guise of ’procreating’ did a number on one’s soul. There were auctions for it. For him. And in the event that he refused to follow through with it, they didn’t mind dousing him in aphrodisiacs. And that wasn’t even the least of it.

Did I want to trade places with Soren?

No.

Was I still envious of him?

Yes.

He was just as broken as the rest of us, and yet, Maisie Adams liked him the best. He’d done progressively worse than I had—well, sort of—but she always looked for him in the room first.

Of course, she was none the wiser. Oblivious. She’d always been oblivious.

Long before the bite, I’d been watching her. We all had. Soren would blatantly deny it. Quinlan would claim he was looking at some other chick. Jericho would eat shit before he ever admitted it.

But we all knew our particular brand of obsession didn’t ever let go.

She was always so caught up in her own little world to notice. Always staring down at her feet to ever look up. Always hidden underneath that damned hoodie to catch the shadow outside her window. Always had her pert nose buried so deeply in her books to see the figure crouched on the rooftops, trailing her from the distance.

It was a different kind of aggravating, wanting someone you couldn’t have. It was even worse when that person never even acknowledged your existence.

"Koen, you still there?" I heard Gianna say through the cellphone, reminding me she was still there.

"What?" I snapped into the phone.

"Someone’s in a bad mood," Gianna drawled. "Someone shat in your bowl of cereal?"

"Get to it, Gianna," I growled. "I’m not in the mood for your antics."

She harrumphed. "When are you ever in the mood?" There was a loud cheer in the background. And music. A club, possibly, considering Gianna’s preferred profession was being a highly coveted stripper, even if she was a filthy rich heiress. "Ah well, I thought you might be happy to know I’ve got one of yours over here."

I frowned. "Who?"

"Not sure. She looks like one of you. Smells like you. Brunette. Blue eyes. Nice hair. Even nicer tits and ass. You didn’t get the link I sent you? The video is going viral..."

My fingers flew over the screen.

And I froze.

My Lycan let out a predatory growl as I stared at the screen.

Maisie Adams was hanging off the pole at a fucking strip club.

She was on the darned internet in her tank top and jeans, humping on the pole like it was a goddamn cock, her free hand pouring a bottle of champagne down her cleavage.

"She looked so down, I offered her the pill," Gianna laughed. "I had no idea she’d never had one before. She’s a wild, little thing. Has the entire club drooling over her—"

"Where are you?" I snarled vehemently.

"That’s not how this works, Koen," she purred. "You give me something in exchange for information, remember? How about I come see you tonight? It’s been ages since I had you in my bed." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

I smiled. "How about you tell me where you are and I don’t snap your neck?"

"You’re no fun," she sighed. "I’m at Costa Ridge..."

Costa Ridge?

My heart came to a hard stop inside my chest. That was well past rogue territory, teasing the fringes where The Exiled were.

Fuck.

She was in danger.