Chapter 51
Get 5 Men
Laura’s entire body trembled as she watched the chaos unfold before her. Horror spread through her limbs like frostbite, rooting her to the ground. Her knees gave way beneath her, slamming against the wet marble floor as she collapsed, wide- eyed, her pulse thrumming in her throat like a trapped bird.
Her gaze locked onto the rectangular container. Inside, Georgia floated in an unnatural stillness, limbs adrift like the limbs of a drowned doll. Laura’s chest tightened painfully with a rush of fear so intense it made her stomach chum. She didn’t know if Georgia was alive or dead, and the uncertainty coiled around her ribs like a serpent squeezing tighter with each second.
Until recently, Preston had simply been an occasional presence at Vetro Club–an aloof, powerful man she had observed from afar, never knowing his true identity. But as she watched Titus’s pleading eyes dart to Preston, she understood the truth with sickening clarity. Preston was Mr. Hill, the enigmatic owner of Vetro Club, the man who stood at the peak of everything here.
Realization hit Laura so hard her vision dimmed around the edges. Fear pulsed through her veins. She hoped–prayed with every desperate fibre of her being–that Georgia would survive this, so Preston’s wrath wouldn’t land on her shoulders.
Yet another darker thought slithered through her mind. But what if Georgia just… died? What if Georgia woke up and revealed everything to Preston? What if she exposed Laura’s betrayal?
As Preston’s rage built in front of her eyes, her own panic grew, Scrambling clumsily on shaking knees, she staggered to his side. Her fingers twitched as she reached out to touch him, adopting a mask of false concern. “Mr. Hill, your hand is bleeding. You need to stop, or you’ll lose your hand!” Her voice trembled as she spoke, but her mind was screaming, If I can just stall him… just a little longer. Georgia will drown.
She clutched Preston’s arm in trembling fingers, trying to anchor him down. If Georgia died now, no one would know what she had done.
But Preston’s wolf, Luca, roared within him at Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading! Ins hotter than wildfire.
‘Let me take over! Luca snarled. ‘Preston, our mate is dying! I can’t stand this any longer!
Preston’s pupils darkened, the edges of his irises pulsing with black as power swelled inside him. His biceps bulged, tearing the seams of his tailored suit sleeves. The threads snapped with soft, helpless pops until his expensive suit sleeves hung from his elbows in shredded tatters.
With one sudden, brutal jerk, he flung Laura aside like a rag doll. Her body sailed through the air before slamming to the polished floor. Her head struck the ground with a hollow thud, and her world faded instantly to darkness.
Preston didn’t shift fully, but his arms lengthened, muscle fibres thickening and corded with primal power. They became weapons forged from fury and grief.
He roared, baring his teeth in a feral snarl, and slammed his fists against the container again. His knuckles split open, spraying blood across the clear surface like droplets of crimson paint.
The Blue Moon Pack werewolves stumbled back from his aura. The sheer dominance rolling off Preston seared their nerves raw. An alpha’s power this strong was nearly unendurable. Fear clenched around their lungs, forcing them to move faster, to attack the container with renewed desperation.
Then–finally–a sharp crack split the air.
Preston’s eyes locked on the thin fracture spidering across the glass. Luca howled inside him. “Quick! Preston, she can’t hold on! She’s slipping away!
Preston’s chest heaved with fear so potent it made him dizzy. Without pausing to think, he smashed his fist into the crack again, once, twice, three times in rapid, savage blows.
“Alpha Preston!” Lorenzo’s voice cracked with alarm. The wolves of the Dark Spike Pack flinched back, their expressions morphing from terror to horror as they saw blood splatter across the fractured container. Their alpha’s knuckles were tom
open to the bone.
“Your hand!” Lorenzo’s voice trembled with panic. Nothing can happen to Preston, he thought frantically. If he falls, we’re
<Chapter 51
finished. The other packs will tear us apart.
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“Alpha Preston, please–stop! You’re hurting yourself!”
Preston didn’t even look at him. “Back off!” he snarled, his voice guttural with rage. He shoved Lorenzo away his fist again, ignoring the searing pain radiating up his forearm.
and swung
“Alpha Preston!” Lorenzo shouted, but his words drowned beneath the deafening crash as the container finally surrendered.
The vessel exploded under Preston’s relentless onslaught. Shards of glass and gallons of icy water burst outward in a chaotic roar. The force smashed into the room with hurricane force. Furniture capsized. The omate crystal coffee table shattered instantly under the deluge.
Titus and his werewolves screamed as the water knocked them off their feet. Their bodies slammed into furniture, skidded across the slick marble floor, and finally scrambled to clutch onto the sofa for stability, gasping, coughing, spitting water
from their mouths.
The water surged to calf–height, swirling with glass shards, blood, and fragments of clothing. Laura, who had lain unconscious, was thrown against the side of the sofa by the torrent. She awoke with a choking gasp, tears and snot streaming down her face as she coughed violently, her lungs searing with each ragged inhale. For a split second, she thought she was drowning.
“Help me!” she whimpered, voice thin and desperate. But no one so much as glanced her way.
The flood thundered out of the blown–open doorway, racing down the corridor like a freed river.
Georgia’s limp body drifted with the current, her soaked hair spreading out like seaweed around her pale face. Her arms floated loosely at her sides, fingers curled in lifeless tension.
Preston’s wolf–shifted arms plunged into the swirling water. His massive hand wrapped around her waist and hauled her against his chest. He felt nothing but cold, endless cold, radiating from her skin. Was she still breathing?
The last of the water drained away, leaving only slick puddles lapping at their ankles. Preston’s arms slowly shifted back to human form. His suit hung off him in tatters, drenched and dripping, strips of fabric clinging to his bloodied forearms.
Blood oozed steadily from his knuckles, the flesh tom and mangled, but he ignored it. His rapid healing was already knitting the worst of the damage closed, but pain still burned deep in his bones.
He had never been reduced to such a wretched state. Even after Giselle’s death, he had carried his grief like a silent king. his posture regal, his expression cold. He had remained untouchable, But now, kneeling in soaking water with torn clothes and bloody hands, he looked like any other broken werewolf–wild, desperate, feral with love and terror.
Lorenzo stood silently nearby, his chest tight as he stared at his Alpha’s trembling shoulders. Preston.. he did all this for a woman he claims to hate, Lorenzo thought. What is she to him, really? Giselle, Derek’s sister what did she leave behind in
this man?
Lorenzo’s mind flickered to Giselle’s shy smile, and his throat tightened with emotion.
Preston laid Georgia down gently on the drenched sofa, He pressed his shaking fingers to her nose and mouth. The color drained from his face in a single instant.
Without a second of hesitation, his voice thundered across the ruined room. “Turn around! All of you!”
His command shocked them from their stupor, But some froze, blinking in stunned confusion.
Preston’s voice cut sharper, his Alpha power crackling. “I said TURN AROUND!”
The fear in his tone ignited immediate obedience. Every werewolf spun on their heel, backs rigid as they faced the ruined walls. No one dared steal a glance behind them.
Preston didn’t want a single pair of eyes on her–not even the smallest glimpse.
His trembling fingers reached for the sodden fabric wrapped around Georgia’s chest. He pulled it aside, exposing her face fully as he leaned in to give her CPR. His own breathing ragged, he pressed his lips to hers, forcing breath into her lungs, praying with every frantic heartbeat.
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Breathe, he pleaded silently. Breathe, Georgia. Please, just breathe.
“Preston, Luca murmured urgently in his mind, his voice hoarse with fear. “Hold her hand.”
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Preston’s shaking hand found hers. Her skin was ice–cold, her fingers limp in his grip. But the moment their palms touched, an electric current shot up his arm, a spark of heat so bright it nearly blinded him.
Warmth. He felt the warmth of his own life pouring into her frozen flesh.
