Chapter 72: Where is my husband?

Elias’s POV

I’m not good at being away from Noah.

And sitting outside of the building that is hiding him from me is simply pushing my ability to the edge.

The invisible rubber band keeping my sanity intact is stretched to its limits. It will snap. And when it snaps, I will snap.

I can’t have that...yet.

Is this a ploy with Noah to get away from me? Is this Governor Goldsmith method to take his son back?

My phone buzzes for the fifteenth time and I stare at it blankly.

My brother is calling. Worried about my mental state. Worried about the next global breaking news featuring my name.

They have no idea.

No one knew I followed the priestess. I have never been one to stalk my preys, but I needed to see where she takes my angel to.

I need to know.

I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth as a car drives in. Someone opens the gate and it drives in.

A red Corolla. A simple car. A disguise.

My pocket watch is warm from being held in my palm for too long. I lost count. And I never lose count.

One. Two. Three. Fuck.

The man in the car gets out of the car and I recognize him.

He’s an influential man, not just any influencial man. He’s the Governor of the city my brothers and I are just returning from.

He’s Governor Stiles.

My eyelid twitches and I let go of my pocket watch.

I leave the small device deep in my pocket and reach for a screwdriver with wooden handle on my dashboard.

When I turn my attention Stiles again, just in time to see the priestess, Freya, coming out of the building with a smile.

She looks calm. Soft even. And Noah isn’t with her.

Counting in my head, I watch as she and the governor exchange air kisses.

Impatiently, I lift my hand to examine the screwdriver.

It’s a simple tool made of metal and wood. It’s blandly colored and needs improvement. Maybe enough deep red liquid would make it better.

I reach for the door handle but pause, tilting my head to understand the situation.

Stiles and woman are arguing. The woman grabs her own hair and tugs at it. Yelling once more, she turns and points at the building frantically.

’Oh...if anything is wrong with my Angel, I will give every one of them a one-way ticket to hell’ my alpha says.

Calm. Poise. And bridled for now.

The woman finally calms down and gestures for Stiles to go in. And as Stiles leaves her, she turns around and spots my car.

She’s only looking in my direction but I feel something crawling up my chest; the need to kill.

Freya starts to approach the car. She doesn’t know what to expect due to the tinted window. So I wait.

I snuff out the heat in my chest and wait for her.

The priestess tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before she knocks against my window.

"Hello there" she says as I roll down the window. Noting the way the smile drops off her face with the realization of who I am.

"Oh no" she whispers under her breath and makes the mistake of turning her back to me.

Opening my door with one hand, I throw the screwdriver like playing a dart with the other hand.

"Arggh" her scream of terror rings out and I step out of the car slowly.

"Where is my husband?" I ask her, and she keeps screaming. Her shaking hands try to reach for the work tool lodged in her shoulder blade and I sigh.

"Arghh!" she screams once more.

"Stay" I order her in the same tone I talk to Damien’s dogs in.

Her blood seeps out from around the metal, giving her clothes a new color.

Deep red.

"My husband?" I ask.

"He’s in the building! Help! somebody help me" Freya screams like a banshee and I pull the screwdriver out of her back.

I return to my car to pick out my brother’s forgotten gun. The silver M1911A1 is loaded and ready as I carry it with me.

Freya falls to the floor, crawling away from me, and sobbing helplessly.

One look at her and I wrap her long hair around my hand like a leash. I force her head back to make her open her mouth and I jam the screwdriver down her throat.

Her eyes widen as she sputters and tries to fight. I give her no freedom yet. I don’t want her dead yet.

My curse is rationality; is Noah okay and would he need her if he isn’t?

I pull the wet screwdriver from her mouth. Displeased by the trail of saliva and blood that drops to my shoes.

The priestess is screaming but the noises are dulled out by the snarling and restless monster inside my head.

Noah. Noah. Noah.

His name has become the mantra that guard my sanity.

Leaving her on the floor to gasp for air. I head for the gate of the building with my screwdriver and gun.

I expect a fight or at least some resistance, but none of her employees are coming to stop me. They can hear her bloodcurdling screams, yet they don’t attack me or defend her.

In the selfish world of transactions. An individual’s life outweighs money.

I walk through the gate, ignoring the men running around and announcing my arrival.

"Elias Deus is here."

"The brother they call death is here."

"Run!"

Noah has turned me in his personal dog. I’m walking through the building and sniffing the air like I’m seeking bone.

Fuck, he has control over me...doesn’t he?

I catch a whiff of his strawberry scent in a corner and I follow it.

"Fuck, he’s here!" someone says but I don’t give them my attention. I’m looking for certain omega who gives me the cold-shoulder when he’s mad at me.

I’m looking for the omega I think I’m starting to...like.

I stop directly in front of the source of Noah’s scent and it’s not my husband. It’s a guard.

My brows draw together as I eye him from bottom to top.

The man’s chest is rising and falling as I stare at him. He’s taller than I am. His arms are as big as Damien’s and what interests me the most is the way his pupils are trembling.

"Where’s my husband?" I ask and he points with shaky hand.

"You touched him?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Only...I...we...we had to...we had to do what the woman said" he stutters.

He smells fresh like mint, but the more he talks, the more I smell the lie in his words.

"Okay" I say and continue my walk down the hall to the room Noah is in. The closer I get, the more restless my alpha becomes.

The door is already open and the sight greeting me shuts down the last bit of sanity I had left.

Why the fuck is my mate lying in a pool of vomit with sperm on his face?