Fenrir had stuck to the plan.
He’d snuck his way into the building, keeping to the more secluded halls. Having seen the specs when Michelle had first ordered the auction house built, he knew where all of the security cameras and heavily guarded areas were located, making it a simple enough matter to avoid them.
Even still, his first stop was the surveillance room, where he made quick work of the half dozen employees in charge of watching the camera feeds. He didn’t feel bad about it either. Pack wasn’t like product.
Every single one of them had a choice. They knew exactly what they were signing up for when they’d taken this job.
He locked the door behind him and moved for the back stairwell, the one only used by staff. It was tempting to make a detour, to head to the left to the public areas and get visualconfirmation that Oberon was there and okay, but it would be a waste of time, so he resisted.
Aside from his alpha, the two main levels weren’t of any interest to him anyway. Disrupting the auction was only part of his task, and Fen was admittedly here for more selfish reasons than to simply aid the White Frost, even if the deal was lucrative for both sides.
It was immature and narrow-minded of him, especially when Levi and Baal had agreed to hand the business over to him if they were successful, but Fenrir couldn’t shake this festering need for revenge.
He wanted the Wardrobe to suffer. To hide. The way he’d had to all this time.
The first few kills had been simple.
Sneaking up on members of the Wardrobe who’d been lazing around on the upper level before the auction began and stabbing them through the jugular with an icicle was surprisingly cathartic. Rationally, he understood he shouldn’t enjoy killing, and yet…
With each life he took, a little more of the tightness around his ribcage loosened.
The Wardrobe’s trained soldiers were pathetic compared to real organizations like the White Frost, only wielding enough brute force to keep the product and ballsy customers in line. With Michelle holding his leash, Fenrir had never dared to make his true self known, had never tipped his hand and let on what he could do.
How dangerous he truly was.
He’d already swept the entire third level without getting caught before he decided it was probably time to get the show on the road.
Fenrir slipped the blaster free of one of the dead guard’s holsters on his way up to the fourth floor. His mating withOberon meant a steadier, more reliable flow of energy, but that didn’t rule out the possibility of burnout. In the past, using his ability as much as he already had would have been enough to dry up his stores and make him woozy.
Being trapped in that cave for as long as they were had been a blessing in disguise. He’d been given the time to adjust to his alpha and acclimate to this new normal, and his stamina—in both the bedroom and outside of it—had a lot to show for it.
But that didn’t make him invincible, and he recognized he’d gotten a little carried away.
Considering how many bodies he’d left in his wake, it was only a matter of time before he was finally discovered. Maybe it would be wise for him to hide somewhere and give himself a few minutes to recoup some energy, but the rush of adrenaline and endorphins pushed him forward despite the risk.
He’d counted at least three-dozen guards and workers downstairs, including the ones on the level directly below the one he was on now that he’d taken out. It was a good sign that Oberon’s ploy had worked and Michelle had moved most of her muscle to the auction house in anticipation of him causing trouble.
The plan was simple, yet contingent on being able to suspend her disbelief. Leaked information posed as reality in the hopes of being overheard.
A story about how Fenrir had lost himself to influx and attacked his alpha.
About how Oberon had slain him in self-defense.
At first, Fen had been worried she wouldn’t buy the story. That she’d doubt an alpha could murder his omega in cold blood. But then he’d recalled all the daily horrors she subjected herself and others to, and realized he was being foolish for thinking so highly of her moral compass.
She ran a business wherein family sold family and couples turned on one another all the time. Hell, half the product on stage right now had been betrayed by someone close to them and handed over to the Wardrobe against their will to pay off someone’s debt. Add that to the fact she’d witnessed firsthand how bloodthirsty and out of his mind Fen could be, of course she’d believe he attacked Oberon during a fit and lost.
The hope had been to use her spyware to get her to send an invite to Oberon for an auction happening at the end of the month. It’d come as a pleasant surprise to all of them when it arrived this morning instead and they’d realized she’d organized a new one just for him.
These past couple of days apart from his alpha had been brutal, and Fenrir was eager to get this over with so he could return to him.
That’d been the only part of the plan suggested by someone else, and neither of them had been pleased when Baal had proposed it. He’d pointed out that it was too risky for the two of them to stick together after faking his death. They didn’t know where Michelle’s spies were planted, or how many there were. There was also always the chance someone else had gotten bugged, which meant they couldn’t trust being alone anywhere.
Fenrir needed to go to Frost Loans so his “body” could be seen, and sneaking him back out when rumors were clear that the Butcher had a lab in the basement would be stupid, so he’d stuck around.
But not in the lab.
Nothing was ever going to get him back into a lab.