Dahmer grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter, his fingers wet with Malcolm's blood. He bypassed the security screens with a hard swipe and hit Kaelan's direct line.
The phone didn't even ring twice. The call connected instantly, but before Kaelan could utter his usual professional greeting, Dahmer cut through the line with a raw, ragged voice that sounded nothing like the cold, mechanical baritone Kaelan had known for a decade.
"Get to the Upper District mansion right now," Dahmer commanded, his breath catching in his throat as he looked down at the dying Alpha on the ruined dining table. "No delays. Bring the emergency kit from the medical bay. Move!"
