Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 373

KESTER.

How much longer was I supposed to keep sitting on my hands?

Four fucking days.

Four days without my mate.

Every damn hour felt like I was being skinned alive, like some cruel bastard had peeled back my flesh and was dousing me in salt just to see how long before I broke.

I won’t lie, Saint and his crew had been on their grind. They weren’t sleeping. They barely even blinked. Since they found out Nagel wasn’t on land, everyone knew shit had gotten real. Even Saint’s loyal bitch, Karashi, had learned to stay the fuck out of the way.

But none of that changed the fact that my mate was still gone. And I was losing my fucking mind.

My phone pinged, and when I brought it out, it was a text from Karlos.

“We’ve got Alpha Wes where you want him.” Perfect. Finally. One glimpse of light. Something to punch and hurt and make bleed.

I had someone to pour my anger and frustration on while we waited for any signal at all that would tell us exactly where that crafty bastard was. Although Saint had already fully involved his marine agents.

I clenched my jaw, shoved the phone into my pocket, and turned to Norlan, who was still hovering the damn Grail.

over that quiet little genius girl like she was

He even brought her a cup of coffee when she seemed thirsty.

Perfect.

“I’m stepping out,” I said, already moving.

asked, barely glancing

That was all I needed

eyes flicked up, and he nodded. He knew exactly what

at the door with my hand on the doorknob when I

“Don’t tell him.”

voice sounded like

heard another

man.

was Saint’s cold, unbothered

Something in me stilled.

had on the doorknob tightened until my knuckles went pale. I turned

Chapter 373

like they’d rehearsed how

the fuck is going on?” I asked. My gut twisted. Whatever it was,

anything. Saint just turned his laptop

in that

came

planet

even the gods looked away as I took in the scene

like some cheap fucking portal to hell, and Saint, the cold bastard, was just watching me watch it. His fingers hadn’t twitched

I

blurry, but because my brain refused, as if it was trying to

But clarity came anyway.

And it gutted me.

that was not enough, Saint turned the volume up. It all sounded very distant because the only thing I could really

like I’d been shot. My lungs refused to work. My fists clenched so tight I felt the skin

“Fuck.”