November 13, 2015. Grimstone Asylum, Northern Pack Lands.

Cassius Vane

To read someone's mind was one thing, but to feel it—it was different. There were no boundaries; there was no limit. A mind was not a place to mess around with unless you had a death wish. I could do both, reading minds and feeling them, and it was as if their thoughts were my own.

It was never a curse for me.

It was always a blessing.

However, being able to feel someone else's thoughts and emotions didn't mean I understood them. I had been locked up inside an asylum for ten years, and yet, even that wouldn't have prepared me to understand a girl like her.

"Are you planning to kill them all?" Stone asked, guiding me toward the hall of the asylum. I had never seen anything in the asylum except for the basement, but even then, I had a clear map of everything—every single corridor, every room, every inch of this building. It was carved deep in my head.

And that was why I didn't need anyone to lead me.

But I let him do it anyway.

"No." I gave my head a light shake and entered the hall.

A crowd was gathered inside, filled with people who worked here. They looked at me; fear was all over their faces, and I knew that none of them were here to fight for themselves.

All they wanted to do was survive.

And that was understandable.

I stepped forward, moving into the crowd, looking around and seeing the fear in their eyes, the nervousness in their posture.

I knew which ones I wanted to kill.

I approached Victor's assistant, the man who assisted him in taking care of me. I saw it all—the things he did, the torture he helped cause. My eyes narrowed on him as I came closer.

His skin paled, his body froze, his breathing stopped.

He was terrified.

My hand went up to his neck, curling around it. I could feel the pulse under my touch. It quickened as I tightened my grip on him. His eyes watered, his lips trembled. I watched it all. I saw every emotion.

I felt it.

I heard his thoughts screaming inside his head, begging me to let him go. To not kill him. I didn't listen.

He didn't deserve mercy.

Blood spilled onto my hand as his neck broke in my fist.

I wiped the blood from my hand onto the side of my pants and bent down to take his head in my hands. I could feel their gazes on me, watching, waiting for what I would do next.

My eyes locked onto Dom's.

I threw the head to him, and he caught it without a flinch.

"Send that to Gideon."

His lips twisted into a grin, and he nodded once before turning away.

I walked through the crowd, observing each of them closely, seeing the fear in their eyes, feeling it in their hearts.

When I reached the back of the hall, I turned around and scanned the crowd one last time."I know how much you all wish to leave this place," I started, speaking loud enough so they could hear me. "But unfortunately, I can't let you do that. So instead, I'm going to give you a choice. Pledge your loyalty to me, serve me and my pack as I rebuild what was destroyed—or refuse to and meet death by my own hands," I glanced at each of their faces, seeing the shock in their eyes. "The choice is yours. Decide wisely."

There was no hesitation in their response.

They all knelt down, bowing their heads low to me.

They all submitted.

"They called me mad and insane," I said, glancing at each of their faces. "But now, I'm the Alpha of the Silverwolves Pack as I have always been. The blood of your ancestors runs through me, the blood of a hundred generations of alphas flows through my very veins. You seated a false Alpha on the throne of the North and allowed him to usurp power that belongs to me. There will be a punishment for that, but I won't deal it out here today," I told them. "Return to your positions within the asylum. No one will leave from the grounds of the asylum until I allow it."

The staff began to disperse, walking away from the hall, going back to their positions and duties.

They were only a few in the asylum that were involved with my downfall—Victor, his assistant, and a couple of guards. The guards that had captured me ten years ago were brought to the same doom as Victor's assistant, their heads being transported to Gideon.

This was just the beginning.

For what was about to come, only one could wonder.

And it certainly wouldn't be pleasant.

"Gideon will receive his response by midnight," Stone said, walking alongside me. "He'll prepare for an attack. I can leave to gather your reinforcements."

"No," I looked around, observing the people who were in the hall, the patients, the staff. "Stay here."

"For how long?"

"As long as you can."

"You certainly cannot desire to stay in such a place after being locked up here for a decade. You're free to leave, you can go anywhere, you don't have to—"

"I'll remain here for as long as I please." I cut him off.

Stone stepped in front of me and stopped. "Is this a trauma-induced reaction?"

"No." I moved past him.

"You've been locked up in a room for a decade," he continued, following me. "The least you would want to do is leave this place and go somewhere else. You can go anywhere you want. Back to the manor—it would take a minute for me to get everything ready, you can leave. This place has nothing to offer for you, except for a painful reminder of what happened to you. Why do you insist on staying?"

I turned around to meet his gaze. "I need to see something through."

"And what would that be?"

My eyes lingered over the door at the end of the basement before turning to him. "Something."

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