The halls echoed with every step she took. Muscles groaning with pain as she dragged the weighted sword behind her. She strengthened her grip on the crimson sheathed dagger, as she ignored the silent movements of the dripping blood on her hands.
Every drop echoed in the grand hall, taunting her actions.
Liar.
Theif.
Murderer.
She accepted that she was all those things, and yet, she couldn't muster up a single ounce of regret for her actions. Sauntering deeping into the castle, the metallic stench of blood and grime hit her hard, yet she didn't flinch. It was nothing compared to the horrors she'd seen outside.
Mangled faces and bodies
Haunting pleas, begging for mercy.
Echoing whimpers stemming from the tortured wolves.
Her jaw clenched, willing the images of the days before to disappear. Her face morphed to a mask of indifference as she steadily continued on her path. She passed the uncouncious, likely dead bodies that littered the ground, stilling every time she thought she recognised one of the mutilated faces. She itched to approach them, check for a pulse, any sign of life, but she held herself back. She had to stay focused, if not for her, but all the people who had lost their life.
She paused as she approached the set of large arched doors, fingers wavering as they reached for the shattered gold handles. She licked the day's grime off her lips, wondering if it was too late to turn back. If she left, no one would every know. There would be no questions asked. She could forget this ever happened and go on with her life. Yet, no matter how convicing the lies she fed herself were, that's all they were, lies.
With a deep inhale, she softly pushed the doors open, eyes scanning her surroundings for any signs of movement. Realizing the place was clear, she truged through the throneroom. Where the once majestic golden throne rested, there now sat crumbing ashes, mere hints of its former glory shining through. Burns webbed from the throne and onto the floor, painting the room with a sense of dager and unease. Red stained curtains, once a pristine white, sheltered the shattered windows and the gruesome scenes outside. It was almost peaceful. A commanding presence like an age old ruin, all it's grandeur not quite lost.
Sudden movement flashed in the corner of eye. The familiarity of the figure drenching her in a sense of loss.
She dropped her sword, the lound clanging drawing the figure towards her. She gripped her dagger tight, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
It was time for all of this to end.
Author's Section
AHHHHHH!!!! I'm so excited to continue with this book! I know I've been going kind of on and off, but this is the real deal guys. I've practically rewritten this book and using NaNoWriMo to keep me on track!
Updates will come every week (usually on Friday or Saturday)!
YOU ARE READING
The Blood Alpha
Werewolf❝ He was going to destroy her, and she wouldn't stop him ❞ A lycan of the Ancient bloodline, said to have descended from the moon goddess herself. A cursed wolf who tortured his own mate to insanity. The Blood Alpha. A wolfless wolf. A common theif...
