When he observed the chaos with stinging eyes, Teru silently said a prayer to thank whoever helped him challenge Blaise's orders. The explosion had completely smashed the hallway outside of the apartment. The sofa where he had been lying on before was as flat as a pancake. He would've been dead if he had stayed ten seconds longer. His current situation wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative.

Charles slipped through the hole in the ceiling and jumped down into Kieran's apartment. The vampire wasn't in good shape. Deep scratches gouged his chest, blood soaking his scrubs.

"Teru–" when he saw what remained of the lobby, the man growled in defeat. Teru could sense his inner Wrath boiling over. It festered the room. "You-you weren't supposed to die. Not like that."

He wanted to call out to Dr. Charles and let him know he was alive, but his throat was so dry from the dust and smoke particles; he couldn't muster up a simple whimper to signal him. All Teru could do was watch from under the wreckage.

And to make matters worse, his body was feeling heavier and heavier, his mind growing fuzzier by the second. He could tell his core temperature was decreasing. His scent had also disappeared from prepping to enter deep sleep. That must've been why Charles couldn't detect his omega smell. No wonder he thought he was a dead!

I think I'm about to hibernate.

If that's what was happening, which wouldn't be surprising given his injuries, then who knows how long he'd be there until someone found him. Teru's eyes were rolling to the back of his head, but he forced himself to stay awake.

Charles was enraged, allowing more of his Wrath to devour him. "PRIDE!" he roared. In the distance, there were vicious noises of a fight. It must've been Blaise and Kieran going at it. The place vibrated again from the impacts. The ceiling cracked above Teru.

Kieran heard.

Teru cried when his alpha speedily appeared in the same room, glaring at Charles with animosity. There wasn't a scrape or bruise on him.

This was sure proof that Kieran was indeed Pride, who was supposedly the ugliest and most wicked of the deadly sins according to the tales. Like his two siblings, Kieran had also transformed into a terrifying, blood-sucking beast of the night – nails, huge fangs, face, and all that came with it. Prideful, uncaring, and narcissistic emotions flitted through Teru because of Kieran's aura.

But unlike Blaise and Charles, Teru didn't feel...as horrified by him? His nape wanted to go to him. Help him. Do whatever he was meant to do. He wished he knew what that was supposed to be.

It didn't matter, though. Teru was trapped and wounded.

Charles pointed to the area outside the demolished floor. "Look what you fucking did! You killed him! You killed the last omega! Come to your senses and remorse! You are NOT with Van Helsing!"

"I have no interest in fighting. I don't smell my sin on you," Pride snarled, foam spraying everywhere from his mouth. The news of Teru's supposed death flew over his head.

"He what?!" Blaise called from the floor below, joining them. The flirtatious vamp's condition was bad, too – one of his legs was obviously broken and an ear was missing. Thinking Teru had been crushed, his reaction to seeing the wreck was the same as Charles's. Now, both Wrath and Lust braced themselves for the final showdown.

They clashed.

Tuffs of hair and strips of clothes went flying.

Blood sprayed everywhere.

Roars, growls, and hisses deafened Teru's hearing.

The building swayed from each impossibly powerful punch, bite, and kick.

It was violent. It was ferocious. It was how true dominant alphas fought, amplified by their vampiric abilities. No wonder they were the rulers of this country. Just them alone could wipe out a human army within an hour.

Teru was unable to look away despite his exhaustion. He wanted to call out to Kieran. To touch him. Tell him it would be okay. Just calm down.

He moved his sprained arm, slipping it past the rocks and plaster covering it. Teru freed it and held out his hand towards the scuffling trio. The roof cracked some more. "Kieran..." he barely whispered.

A large, black boot stomped on his wrist, pinning it to the floor. He gasped in pain. An ethereal man looked down at him as if Teru was nothing but dirt – he had sharp facial features, a perfectly trimmed five o'clock shadow, and wavy black hair that touched his muscular shoulder line. With all the movies they've been watching lately, Teru could imagine him as a lead actor, particularly the villain.

But his eye color was the most noticeable trait - one was red and the other was brown.

"Oh dear," he said with a silky accent Teru's never heard before. His tongue licked over his fangs as if he was about to eat a delicious meal. A vampire and a dominant alpha. Great.

Wrath, Lust, and Pride failed to notice the newcomer and continued to fight for dominance. "So, you're my son's omega. Why is such a rare creature like yourself in this dire condition? And about to hibernate, hmm? I wasn't supposed to meet you until next week but...I finally...come to...this mess..."

The rest of his words blurred out.

Teru couldn't stay awake any longer and rested his head on the glass-littered floor. The last thing he felt was fear, which would return to haunt his comatose dreams – since the vampire said 'my son,' that would make him Abaddon, ruler of Avania, the former archangel and fifth trumpet of the apocalypse.

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