Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 412: They'd Pay Elias Turner, no, Patrick Vale, sat motionless on the edge of the bed, his fingers gripping a photograph. It was the only thing he seemed able to hold onto anymore.

The girl in the picture was none other than his girlfriend, Cynthia. Well, now, his late girlfriend.

If he had known that night just a few days ago would be the last the would see her, he would have never let her go. There were far more skilled men that would have led the operation, but he let her take charge because he trusted her. And now, his mistake has cost him forever.

A guttural roar was ripped from his throat as he hurled the picture fracross the room. It struck the wall with a violent crack, the glass shattering into pieces. But then, the ssound seemed to break something open in him.

"No, no, no..." Patrick dropped to his knees, crawling over to the mess, not even flinching as shards bit into his palms and knees. Blood slicked the floor as he pulled the photo from the broken frame, hugging it to his chest like it could somehow bring her back.

"I'm so sorry..." he sobbed with a cracked voice. "I'm so, so sorry..." Saying those words knowing she'd never hear them made the cries charder, and his shoulders to shake with the weight of grief.

There was not even a body to bury. Cynthia was simply gone while he sat here, still breathing. She must be cold wherever she is and disappointed in him.

Suddenly the door was kicked open, and Patrick jolted, turning with wide, bloodshot eyes as two figures stepped into the room.

"Aww," Vera drawled with mock sweetness, her smile curving with venom. "There he is." She glanced over her shoulder. "Told you he'd be cooped up somewhere crying like sbaby." Behind her, their brother Joseph followed in with easy steps, a matte black Kel-Tec KSG shotgun casually slung over one shoulder. He gave Patrick a lopsided grin. "Hello, brother." Patrick wiped at his face, trying to gather whatever dignity he had left. "What are you both doing here?" Vera tossed a glance around the wrecked room and sighed. "Cto bust your sorry ass before they get to you. You're not exactly hard to find." She stepped forward. "Now con. Let's go." But Patrick stayed rooted, his hands balling into a fist. "No. I'm not going anywhere." Vera raised both hands in mock surrender. "Alright." Then without warning at what was coming, her hand cracked across his face. The slap was deafening and Patrick stumbled from the force of it.

He barely had tto process it before the second hit came, harder, across the opposite cheek. Then the third one arrived, and this tit was with a closed fist, sending him falling to the floor.

Joseph didn't even flinch. He just whistled as if he was relishing the show. "Damn." Vera reached down and grabbed Patrick by the collar, hauling him up. She then yanked him close until their faces were inches apart, her voice cutting and icy.

"Usually, I wouldn't care about your pathetic ass," she said. "But you're currently useful to us brother. So no, you don't get to waste away, Elias. Not when we have a war to prepare for." Patrick couldn't speak. His eyes were dazed, his lip bleeding, and he still held the photo like it was his lifeline. Vera's gaze landed on the picture, and for a moment, her hardened expression eased.

"I get it," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "You just lost the love of your life, and your heart must be breaking right now. But tell me, do you think this is what Cynthia would want if she could see you like this?" Then, in a move that contradicted the violence from just moments before, Vera suddenly cupped his face. Her touch was tender, even doting, as if she hadn't just slapped the soul out of him. His face was flushed red, and she massaged the skin with surprising care.

"Are you going to stay here and grieve like a pathetic fool, or are you going to give Cynthia the revenge she deserves? They took her away from you, Elias. They have to pay. Or would you rather her death be in vain?" It wasn't a rhetorical question, Vera expected an answer. But Patrick said nothing, the only sound escaping him a thick, snot-filled sniff.

"SPEAK UP, ELIAS!" she roared into his face.

"N-no..." he stammered, his heart pounding.

"Say it again!" "NO!" Patrick shouted louder this time.

"Good," Vera said with a satisfied smirk. "Because your position has been compromised, and we have to get you out of here before they find you. So move your ass." She shoved him back with a forceful push and turned to walk out of the room.

Patrick stood there for a second, breathing hard. Then he looked down at the picture in his hand. They did this to her. He squeezed it.

They were going to pay. Every single one of the wolves.

"Yes," he muttered, the fire in his chest reigniting. "They'll all pay." "That's more like it," Joseph chuckled, clearly impressed. He patted Patrick on the shoulder as he passed by. "That's how we Turners do it."

Together, they exited the room. But Patrick didn't make it far before he froze in his tracks. There was blood smeared on the hallway floor with bodies of his people laying crumpled in death. Sbore gunshot wounds while the others had been taken out with blades. Vera caught his stare and sighed as if it was a chore to explain what happened.

"Since we're moving, we had to do a little clean-up," she said coolly, brushing past another corpse without blinking.

Patrick spun toward her, furious. "These were the people I worked with! How the hell do you expectto continue my work alone if you get rid of them all?"

Vera arched her brow. "Who said anything about killing them all? We split them into two groups, kept the important ones, your doctors, the core brains, and dropped the dead weights." She gave a pointed shrug. "Labor isn't hard to find. And while I'm not a nerd like you, brother, I'm not stupid either." Without waiting for his reply, she walked off.

Just like that, Patrick followed his family, who had already secured a new location and the essential m resources to continue his work. As for the old hideout, they burned it to the ground, ensuring nothing remained for their enemies to find when they eventually arrived.