FRAGILE

Chapter 38: Beast, Boss, Alpha

The sound of the drill whirring in Maximus's hand filled the air, the high-pitched mechanical hum a perfect counterpoint to the rogue's ragged breaths and pained groans strapped to the cold metal table. Sweat and blood dripped from the man's trembling body, pooling on the floor beneath him. The sight should have been pitiful-if not for the overwhelming rage that coursed through Maximus's veins.

Each hole drilled into the man's flesh was a release of Maximus's fury, a small step toward the justice his mate, Levi, so desperately deserved. But the deeper Maximus burrowed into the man's skin, the less satisfaction he felt. The rogue had already given up the information they needed after the third hole, his defiance breaking under the weight of excruciating pain. But Maximus couldn't stop.

He didn't want to stop.

Levi had been this man's victim. This rogue had been part of the vile, twisted machine that had broken his mate-turned him into a hollow, fragile shell of the vibrant omega he was meant to be. Maximus could see Levi's pain every time he looked into his mate's eyes, could still hear the cracks in Levi's voice as he spoke about what they had done to him, the years of torment and degradation. No punishment was enough for that. No amount of torture would erase the scars Levi now carried inside and out.

But this was a start.

Beside Maximus, Saxon worked with silent intensity. His Beta's focus was as sharp as his own, though Saxon's fury had taken on a quieter, more methodical edge. Saxon pushed salt into the open tubes Maximus had embedded into the rogue's limbs, his fingers steady as the man's body bucked and writhed in pain. His eyes gleamed with the same satisfaction that burned in Maximus, but it wasn't enough for either.

Saxon had his own reasons for wanting this rogue to suffer. The bastard had brutalized Saxon's mate as well-the boy they had rescued from the same cursed auction house where Levi had been found. This wasn't just about information anymore. This was personal.

The rogue's whimpers were beginning to dull, his body succumbing to the agony that Maximus had inflicted upon him. His skin was pale, his breathing ragged, and his pulse thready beneath the surface. The man wouldn't last much longer if they continued like this.

But still, it wasn't enough. Maximus wanted more.

He reached for the bottle of vodka, the amber liquid sloshing inside as he prepared to pour it over the rogue's open wounds. The thought of the alcohol burning through the man's raw skin, amplifying the pain, sent a dark thrill through him.

Maximus paused, the bottle of vodka still in his hand, as a sharp pain flared in his chest-an emotional jolt that wasn't his own. The connection between him and Levi, the bond they shared, surged with fear and anguish, cutting through the dark haze of vengeance clouding Maximus's mind. Levi was in trouble, and whatever was happening to him was immediate. Urgent.

Maximus's wolf growled low in his mind, snapping to attention. Levi needed him now. The thrill of punishment, of extracting justice from the rogue who had been part of Levi's suffering, vanished, replaced by a fierce need to protect his mate. He threw the vodka bottle aside, the sound of shattering glass echoing in the small room as Maximus stepped back from the rogue's broken form.

"Saxon, finish him," Maximus ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. He couldn't waste another second. Levi's distress was intensifying, his emotions pouring through their bond like a torrent, his panic rising. Maximus's heart hammered in his chest, the need to reach his mate overshadowing everything else.

But before he could take another step toward the door, the rogue on the table let out a ragged, desperate laugh.

Maximus froze, his hand tightening on the doorframe, eyes narrowing as he turned to face the beaten man.