Zayn’s hands shook as he stared at the glass tube. The scent was unmistakable. Sweet lavender with undertones that were uniquely hers.
Memories flooded his mind. Xavier would poison him with concoctions that made Zayn believe his mate was still alive. He would blindfold him and manipulate his senses. Using his mate’s scent from the lock of her hair, Xavier would taunt him about taking her.
“Fuck, she’s so tight, Zayn! Do you hear her screaming my name?” Xavier’s taunts echoed in Zayn’s mind.
The sounds of lust and love making clouded his mind, pulling him into a nightmare he had long buried in the vault of his mind. Zayn’s grip tightened on the glass tube, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t respond to Ezra, he couldn’t trust himself to speak.
While Zayn was being tortured by nightmares from his past, Xavier became transfixed on the belongings laid out on the tray. He lifted his head to take a closer look. Something shifted in his expression. He crawled forward, but was pulled back by the guards who held onto the chains.
The sound of chains clinking echoed through the dungeon. A smile formed on his filthy face as he looked at Zayn’s tortured expression, then at the glass tube in his hand.
Laughter bubbled up from his throat. No one took notice at first, thinking it was just his mad rumblings. But when the laugh continued, echoing the dungeons, the guards yanked his chain. It only made him laugh louder, more manic.
“Shut him up!” Ezra ordered the guards.
They tried, pulling harder on the chains, striking him with the whip, but nothing stopped Xavier’s hysterical laughter. If anything, it grew more frenzied, more taunting.
Xavier’s laughter further amplified the nightmares swimming through Zayn’s mind. Something snapped inside him.
The guards had no time to react. In one fluid motion, he grabbed Xavier by the throat and slammed him face-first into the stone floor. The sickening crack of jaw against stone echoed through the dungeon. Blood splattered across the filthy ground.
“Zayn!” Ezra shouted, rushing forward.
But Zayn wasn’t finished. He lifted Xavier’s head and smashed it down again, his eyes wild with rage.
“Alpha!” One of the guards called out in alarm.
Ezra grabbed Zayn’s shoulders, pulling him back with all his strength. “Zayn, enough! He’s not worth it!”
Xavier’s laughter ceased, replaced by wet, gurgling sounds as blood pooled beneath his shattered jaw. His eyes rolled back, consciousness fading from the impact and blood loss.
Zayn breathed heavily, blood spattered across his face and hands. The glass tube with Irene’s hair remained clutched in his left hand, still intact despite his violent outburst.
The guards stood frozen, exchanging glances. They’d never seen their Alpha’s fury this intense before.
Ezra stood before Zayn, placing both hands on his shoulder, “Let the past stay in the past. Remember who you are. Remember what’s at stake, why we’re here.”
Zayn’s breathing steadied. He stepped back, expression cold and distant.
“The pack needs you, Zayn,” Ezra continued quietly, keeping a firm grip on Zayn’s arm. “Our people need you. Don’t let him break you after everything we’ve survived.”
“Have his jaw repaired,” Ezra ordered the guards. “Death is too easy for him.”
One guard hurried away to fetch a pack healer while the others moved Xavier’s unconscious body.
Zayn gave a small nod, his gaze falling back to the tray of Xavier’s belongings.
“None of these will help us find the vault,” he said, voice hollow as he glanced at the tray again.
The ring carried no secrets, merely a status symbol. It didn’t have any inscriptions inside it either. The dagger, while valuable, held no clues. The key was unusual, but without knowing what it opened, it was useless.
Zayn picked up the parchment, hoping it might mention something, but in it were unintelligible scribbles.
“What’s this?” Ezra asked as he picked up a sixth item, directing the question at the guards.
Neither of them had noticed it until now, as it was hidden beneath the folded parchment. It was a small vial with a dark colored liquid inside.
One of the guards answered with a shrug. “It was among his personal belongings when we seized him, Alpha.”
Zayn held the vial up to the candlelight, studying the viscous liquid inside. No label, no indication of its contents. He pocketed it along with the glass tube containing Irene’s hair.
“We’re done here,” he announced, already turning toward the exit.
“What about the rest?” Ezra gestured to the remaining items.
“Worthless,” Zayn replied without looking back. f\r(e)ewe.b no\vel.com
The walk back to the packhouse was silent. Ezra trailed behind Zayn, keeping careful watch over him.
“Zayn, that lock of hair-”
Zayn glared back at him, “Don’t.”
His voice was cold, devoid of emotion. In a flicker of a second, Zayn looked like he had aged a decade. The strain in his voice, the lingering pain, was all carefully veiled by his restraint.
Ezra lowered his head and kept his mouth shut, quietly walking behind him as they walked through the packgrounds.
Pack members who passed them by bowed their heads respectfully. But Zayn didn’t acknowledge any of them like he usually would. Nothing changed as they entered the packhouse.
When they passed Lily’s room, her door creaked open. Zayn didn’t seem to notice, he continued walking ahead. Lily peered out, lips pressed together. She watched his hunched back, realizing he wasn’t his usual self.
She came out of her room just as he turned to enter his room. There was a lingering scent on him, one she did not recognize. It wasn’t Victoria, she knew that for sure.
Yearning to speak with him, she picked up the pace, wanting to catch up with him. But a hand on her shoulder pulled her back.
“Don’t,” Ezra warned her, his voice low but firm.
Lily lifted her hands to sign, wanting to explain why she wanted to approach Zayn but Ezra shook his head.
“Now’s not the right time,” He added.
His statement only made her more curious, more concerned. When she asked him if something had happened, Ezra could only let out a sigh.
“It’s best not to disturb him right now,” He explained solemnly, pain in his eyes, “You’re the last person he wants to see right now.”
“If you want to live,” Ezra continued, “it’s best not to disturb him.” He leaned closer, his expression grave. “You’re the last person he wants to see right now.”