Searching for the way toward the water, Wren found a cut in the gate. She stepped carefully onto the rocks and lowered down to a new platform. Faint slivers of sunlight broke through the infinite darkness of night. As her feet met the sand, she could feel the minute breaths of heat of day, but the rumblings of thunder overpowered the sound of crashing waves.
She scanned the rough waters for a sign but wasn’t able to see any detail. Near the shore was a rocky jetty that led to a damaged standing watchtower. She ran toward it.
They would be checking on her soon. Maybe in ten minutes time. Maybe fifteen. Either way, she would be hunted again. She pulled the revolver from her holster and released the cylinder. Quickly inserting the cartridges, she rotated the cylinder back into the weighty frame.
Sucking in huge breaths, she calmed her nerves. Sometimes, the thunder would die down, and the crashing of the waves against the jetty could finally put her at ease. It reminded her that, no matter what, things were a constant ebb and flow of the opposite of what you expected at the time. But every now and then, the world aligned itself to better ideas.
Misty salt hung against her cheekbones as she stepped to the foot of the lighthouse door. Reaching for the crystalline knob, she felt the smooth ridges open with a noticeable hitch. The door opened with a heavy thrust of her shoulder against the wood.
Sawdust lifted around her, suspended inside the shards of light. The entire structure was a wreck. A small staircase rounded upward to the top balcony. Still, the thunderous cracks of violence in the sky resounded above her. Wren carefully took the steps to the platform and made her way through the narrow helix.
At the top of the stairs was a door, which Wren had to open. This was it. She remembered all of this from her dream. This was when she’d see Vash, lifeless on the sands below.
Her stomach sank with despair. Had she undergone a lapse of judgment?
One foot at a time, she stepped onto the balcony, throat closing with anticipation. As her eyes met the shoreline, acid burned inside her belly. Her pulse quickened to a machine gun rhythm, and she recoiled in horror.
It was Cassian. “You came. I love it when you come for me.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Where the fuck is he?” Vash forced his way into the alpha’s quarters, hands gripping the rifle propped against his chest.
Aidrick stared back in disbelief. A large cast wrapped around his leg, weighing him down. “Please,” he whispered, hands in front of him. “I don’t work for him anymore.”
Vash kept the gun aimed. It had been a hell of lot harder to get into the barracks the second time around. He wasn’t stepping out of this place empty handed.
“Go on,” Vash said. “Tell me, or I’ll dismember every tendon in your body.”
Aidrick let out a defeated breath. “I have nothing now. My omega has been… eliminated.”
“You were whoring her out to hundreds of men throughout the sector. Don’t play the victim card—you’re no fool,” Vash said.
“Thousands,” Aidrick corrected him.
“You’re proving my point.”
The wall lining Aidrick’s quarters was lined with stolen goods. Vash laughed and nodded to himself.
“My profit margin has been greatly disrupted,” Aidrick growled.
Vash forced the barrel of the rifle against Aidrick’s cock. “Fuck your profit margin. There are more omegas waiting for you. Do not lie to me.”
“Cool it, Vash! I don’t need any more shit.” Aidrick swallowed glanced down at the wounds the other alphas gave him.
“Looks like you’re healing decently enough,” Vash said.
Aidrick paused, seemingly weighing his options. “I don’t hear a counter offer,” Aidrick said.
Aidrick knew the game as well as anyone did. Loyalty meant nothing to the rats on the outside, but the trade was sometimes worth it. “All of my chips,” Vash said.
“What am I going to do with a few chips?” he asked.
Vash dropped the bag onto the floor. “Five hundred thousand.”
Aidrick’s eyes lit up. “That must have taken ages to collect.”
“Hundreds of raids,” he said, nudging the bag closer to Aidrick’s bed.