chapter 100
- AIDEN
The kitchen was too clean.
Shiny black counters. A spotless chrome sink. Not a crumb on the floor or a single dish in
the drying rack.
It didn’t feel like a kitchen anyone actually used. More like something from a magazine.
Aiden sat stiffly on one of the bar stools, feet not quite touching the floor, his hands clenched in his lap.
Pierce moved around behind the counter, opening drawers and cabinets like he belonged there.
“So,” Pierce said, voice light. “What do you like to eat?”
Aiden didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he could speak. His throat felt tight, and his stomach still flipped every time he thought about leaving his mom behind in that room.
Pierce didn’t seem to mind the silence. “How about peanut butter and jelly? Can’t go wrong with a classic.”
Aiden gave a tiny nod.
Pierce smiled like they were old friends. “See? Told you we’d figure it out.”
He pulled out a loaf of bread, a jar of grape jelly, and a big tub of peanut butter. His
movements were easy, unhurried. Like he was enjoying himself.
“Crunchy or creamy, bud?” he asked, unscrewing the jar lid with a soft pop. “I always say…
the right answer tells you everything you need to know about a man.”
Aiden hesitated. His mouth opened slightly… then closed again.
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Was this a trick?
He didn’t know what the right answer was supposed to be.
He forced himself to shrug. “Um… creamy?”
Pierce paused, then grinned.
“Good call. Crunchy’s for sociopaths.”
+25 Bonus
He laughed at his own joke and began spreading the peanut butter with smooth, even strokes. The butter knife clinked against the plate with each motion.
Aiden watched in silence, his eyes darting toward the hallway he’d come from. He wanted
to ask about his mom. He wanted to run. But Pierce moved like a man who was always
watching–even when his back was turned.
“Moonstone must be real proud of you,” Pierce said casually as he smeared jelly on the second slice of bread. “Bet you’ve got people teaching you all sorts of things, huh?”
Aiden said nothing.
Pierce glanced over his shoulder. “Reading? Math? Pack protocol?”
Still, Aiden stayed quiet. His questions sounded friendly, but they didn’t feel that way.
It felt like Pierce was trying to get information out of him. It made Aiden nervous. More
nervous than he already was.
“Not much of a talker,” Pierce mused. “That’s okay. Makes you easier to like.”
He finished the sandwich, cut it diagonally–like Mom did at home—and slid the plate across the counter. “You’re not like the rest of them. You’re special. I can tell.”
Aiden’s stomach growled again, but he didn’t reach for the food.
Where was Mom?
Was she okay?
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Did he do the right thing? Was help on the way?
The kitchen door creaked open behind him.
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One of the men from the hallway entered, rubbing his jaw with a wince. A fresh bruise bloomed across his mouth, and a tiny trail of blood glistened at the corner of his lip.
“Boss?” the man said, voice low. “We got a bit of a problem…”
Pierce’s head snapped toward him. His body went still.
“What kind of problem?”
The man’s eyes flicked toward Aiden.
Pierce didn’t ask twice. His smile vanished like a mask slipping. He rounded the kitchen
island in two sharp strides and stalked past Aiden, his polished shoes clicking against the
tile.
Aiden flinched as the man passed him, but Pierce didn’t even glance his way. Just shoved the door open and disappeared down the hall.
The heavy door swung shut with a quiet thud that seemed too final.
And just like that, Aiden was alone.
Alone–except for the man his mom had clearly punched in the face.
The rogue grunted, wiping blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. His jaw was starting to swell, one side already darkening to a bruised purple.
“You know,” he muttered, glaring at Aiden with one eye still squinted, “your mom is a real piece of work.”
Aiden didn’t reply.
The man stepped closer to the island and leaned across it, his weight settling on his elbows
as he sneered down at the sandwich.
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“You gonna eat that or what?”
Aiden’s stomach tightened. His throat felt dry, but he didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
Then-
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.
Movement.
Just beyond the hallway.
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A shadow slipped across the floor. A figure crouched low, half–hidden by the corner of the wall, eyes sharp and locked on the kitchen.
Aiden’s heart leapt so hard he nearly gasped.
Derek.
It was him. In black tactical gear, crouched like a wolf about to strike. His eyes met Aiden’s and, slowly, deliberately, he lifted a finger to his lips.
Quiet.
Then he pointed to the sandwich.
Mimicked chewing.
Raised his eyebrows.
Aiden understood immediately.
He jumped slightly in his seat, feigning sudden enthusiasm. “Yes!” he said, a little too loud, snatching the sandwich with both hands.
The rogue blinked at him, startled.
Aiden took a big bite, chewing fast.
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“You didn’t seem hungry before,” the man muttered, frowning.
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“I am now,” Aiden said around a mouthful of peanut butter, trying to sound as normal as possible. His heart was beating so fast it felt like a bird trapped in his chest.
The man grunted something under his breath and leaned back against the counter again, one hand rubbing his bruised jaw. “Kid’s weird,” he muttered.
The door creaked.
Aiden didn’t even turn.
He knew what was coming.
Derek moved like a shadow. Silent. Swift. One second he wasn’t there, and the next–he was behind the rogue, all smooth muscle and deadly purpose.
His arm locked around the man’s throat.
The other hand pressed hard against the back of the man’s head.
Aiden froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth.
Derek leaned in close, voice calm. Steady.
“Close your eyes, kid.”
Aiden dropped the sandwich. He squeezed his eyes shut so tight it hurt.
There was a crack.
Then a heavy thud.
Silence.
And something in the air shifted.
When Aiden opened his eyes, the man was on the floor, twisted oddly. His neck didn’t look right. One arm was bent beneath him, lifeless.
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Derek crouched beside the body, checked for a pulse–then stood and turned toward Aiden, brushing a quick hand over his hair.
“You did good,” Derek said, low and firm. “Real good.”
“Is my mom okay?” Aiden asked, his voice cracking like glass.
“I’m sure she is,” Derek said, smiling—but this time it didn’t reach his find out, I need you to be brave for just a little longer.”
eyes.
“Before we
Aiden nodded, wide–eyed.
Derek kept his voice even, calm, steady–the kind of voice you used when someone was about to fall and you had to keep them from panicking.
“I’ve got friends waiting outside—my Beta and my Gamma. They’re going to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere secure. And your mom’s going to meet you there just as soon as I get her out.”
Aiden didn’t know whether to cry or cheer. He felt both welling up inside, crashing into
each other.
But relief poured into him like warm water. It made him feel stronger. Braver.
“I want to help,” he said. “I’ll do anything.”
Derek met his gaze–serious now. More serious than Aiden had ever seen him.
“Your mom,” Derek said. “Take me to her.”
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