Chapter 7
1510words
"Empathetic Dependency? Psychological comfort?"
His voice rasped, a predatory gleam flickering in his single eye.
"Pathetic. The great Damian Frost has tethered his sanity to some nobody."
His laugh was cold enough to chill bone.
"But this works perfectly."
"If she's his medicine, then destroying her means Damian Frost is finished."
He turned to a figure lurking in the shadows.
"Deploy the Ghost squad to the North District."
"No survivors."
He added with cruel precision, "I want Frost to watch his hope die before his eyes."
A deep voice answered from the darkness.
"Consider it done, boss."
The atmosphere in Winter Fortress had transformed completely.
Aurora walked the long corridor as bodyguards and servants bowed, addressing her as "Madam" with unmistakable respect in their eyes.
The sudden change made her uncomfortable.
Damian had moved her brother Leo to the finest private hospital under Frost protection, with an elite medical team attending him.
Though relieved, she still needed to see him in person.
Across from the hospital, the Ghost squad lived up to their name, lurking unseen in the shadows.
They watched. They waited.
"Target visits City First Hospital at 3 PM Tuesdays."
"She visits a boy named Leo."
"This is our opening."
A cruel smile played on the squad leader's lips.
"We strike next Tuesday. Remember—the boss wants her dead, not captured."
"Create a diversion at the eastern docks to pull Frost's men away."
The plan was as meticulous as it was vicious.
One week later, violence erupted at the eastern docks.
Masked gunmen launched a coordinated assault on Wolf Pack cargo ships.
Chaos erupted instantly.
When Damian got the news, his eyes hardened to ice.
He strapped on his bulletproof vest and pulled Aurora close before leaving.
"Wait for me."
His deep voice carried power, yet couldn't hide a trace of concern.
He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
"I'll be here."
She watched his convoy disappear beyond the gates, an inexplicable dread settling in her chest.
At three o'clock, a Wolf Pack convoy escorted her to the hospital.
She had no idea the trap was already closing around her.
At the hospital, Leo's color had improved remarkably.
Aurora sat with him, chatting and peeling an apple, her anxiety easing slightly.
As she left the hospital with her guards, dusk was settling over the city.
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
A sniper's bullet, glinting coldly, streaked toward her heart from an impossible angle.
Her guards reacted instantly, shoving her down, but in the chaos, a tranquilizer dart found her neck.
Numbness flooded her body instantly.
Before darkness claimed her, she glimpsed several faces behind scorpion masks, their eyes gleaming with triumph.
A bone-chilling cold shocked Aurora back to consciousness.
She opened her eyes to find herself in a damp underground cell.
She was bound to a metal chair.
Across from her sat a one-eyed man, studying her with the detached interest of a mortician.
The Scorpion King, Cyrus.
"Awake?"
Amusement tinged his voice.
"What do you want?"
"It's quite simple."
Cyrus rose and approached, tapping her cheek with his blade's cold edge.
"I'm going to turn you into Damian Frost's worst nightmare."
"I'll take my time with you. Make sure he gets to watch every second."
"I want him to see his precious medicine become poison before his eyes."
Leo!
Aurora's pupils contracted in fear.
They were using Leo against her!
"If you resist or try anything clever..."
Cruelty flashed in Cyrus's lone eye.
"Your brother's oxygen disappears. Simple as that."
Yet facing Cyrus's menacing grin, a stubborn flame kindled in her heart.
She wouldn't break.
Leo and Damian were counting on her.
Damian would come for her. She just needed to survive until then.
She lowered her eyes, hiding her emotions while carefully studying every inch of her prison, searching for even the slimmest chance of escape.
Wolf Pack headquarters.
Dead silence.
The air froze solid. Every lieutenant in the room held their breath, afraid even their heartbeats might trigger the boss's wrath.
Damian stood before the massive window, his back to the room.
In his hand, a crushed communicator, its metal fragments piercing his palm. Blood dripped slowly.
Each drop hit the marble with a sound barely audible.
Yet each one hammered against the hearts of those watching.
The report on the dock attack had just concluded.
Then came the news of Aurora's disappearance.
"Who."
His voice was soft but devoid of warmth—a cold wind from the abyss.
The intelligence chiefs' legs buckled. They dropped to their knees, trembling uncontrollably.
"B-boss... it was Cyrus's men..."
"A mole leaked the lady's schedule to the Scorpion King..."
Damian turned slowly.
His face was expressionless, terrifyingly calm.
But in his eyes, the last trace of humanity had been consumed by bloodlust—replaced by twin infernos of rage.
His fury and killing intent swept through the room like a physical wave.
"Boss!"
A trusted lieutenant knelt on one knee, fighting against the crushing pressure.
"Give the word! We'll burn South City to the ground and bring her back!"
"Command us, boss!"
The other lieutenants dropped to their knees, their faces fierce with determination.
Damian raised his hand, silencing their battle cries.
"A full assault gives them time to use Aurora as leverage."
His voice had regained its icy control, but beneath it simmered volcanic rage.
He turned to his deputy, Morpheus.
"Find Cyrus."
"Right away."
Minutes later, a holographic map hovered in the air.
A red dot pulsed deep within an abandoned chemical factory.
"His personal interrogation chamber. Highest security."
Morpheus's voice was grim.
"Boss, it's a fortress. Frontal assault would be suicide."
Damian stared at the red dot as if he could incinerate it with his gaze.
The night was black as pitch.
Wind whistled through the abandoned factory, carrying the acrid stench of chemicals and the metallic tang of blood.
Dark figures moved too quickly to track, melting into the shadows of pipes and buildings.
Through his night vision gear, Damian saw everything with perfect clarity.
He spotted hidden cameras and detected the faint hum of the electric fence.
Like a ghost dancing on a razor's edge, he slipped past every security measure.
Two guards crossed paths on patrol.
The moment they turned, Damian struck.
A shadow blurred past.
Neither guard had time to make a sound before they dropped, necks snapped.
He moved forward, leaving death in his wake.
Soon, he reached the cell block.
A massive alloy blast door blocked his path.
Password. Fingerprint. Iris scan.
Triple security.
Damian stopped hiding.
He drew a Desert Eagle from his thigh holster.
Then—
*BOOM!*
An ear-splitting explosion.
He didn't target the door but the circuit box above it, triggering a cascade of electrical failures.
The alloy door slid open amid a shower of sparks.
Alarms screamed throughout the compound.
Red warning lights bathed the corridor in crimson.
"Intruder! Intruder!"
Mercenaries in tactical gear flooded in from every direction.
Damian stood before the sparking circuits as gun barrels trained on him.
A gun in each hand, his eyes burning with apocalyptic rage.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
He became a whirlwind of death, tearing into their ranks.
Gunfire erupted.
Brass casings rained down.
Screams cut short.
The hallway transformed into hell on earth.
Guided by instinct alone, he plowed forward, destroying everything in his path.
Man or metal—anything in his way was shattered.
Finally.
He kicked in the final door.
The sight before him ignited his blood with fury.
Aurora bound to a metal chair, face pale as death, blood trickling from her lip.
Her breathing was so shallow it might stop at any moment.
Beside her stood Cyrus, his military knife glowing blue, a twisted smile on his face.
"Damian, right on time."
"Perfect. Now you can watch your precious medicine die before your—"
He never finished the sentence.
In Damian's eyes, the last trace of reason vanished in a blaze of fury.
He abandoned all caution and charged Cyrus like a missile.
Bullets tore into his flesh, blooming red, yet failed to slow him.
Taking multiple hits, he crashed into Cyrus.
"You... madman..."
Cyrus's lone eye widened in terror.
Damian let the knife pierce his shoulder.
In the same moment, his fist punched straight through Cyrus's chest.
He withdrew his bloody fist, letting the corpse crumple to the floor.
His body was riddled with wounds, his left leg mangled by a bullet.
He didn't seem to notice.
He limped to Aurora, hands trembling as he freed her bonds and lifted her into his arms.
"Let's go home."
Cradling her feather-light body, he walked step by painful step over blood and bodies, out of the slaughterhouse.
Outside, the first hint of dawn touched the sky.
The story spread like wildfire—how the Wolf Pack's godfather had risked everything for the woman he loved.
Damian Frost's reputation soared to mythic heights.
He was no longer just a warlord who ruled through fear, but a complex legend of ruthlessness and devotion.
