Red String {EDITING}

Chapter Three | Of Assassins and Alphas

Sunlight glinted off the metal as it descended, almost blinding her momentarily, but Lyra was already moving. She rolled to one side, dodging the almost amateurish strike with a practiced ease. Pushing herself to her feet, she edged away from the insane knife-wielding man. Distance. That was the first thing she needed when dealing with a new threat. Step back and analyse. Swallowing, she fixed her eyes on him, keeping the knife in her sight.

Something squelched under her feet, and Lyra really wished she had boots to wear – because she was fairly sure that was an organ of some description, spilled out from his last victim. Carefully moving her feet to a more snowy patch of ground, she waited and watched. Patience was a key asset of any assassin worth their salt.

"You're no fun," the man remarked, lunging towards her yet again. "You could've at least screamed."

She dodged him with ease, eyeing up the ground she had to work with, careful to keep her feet away from anything that would slip her up. Slipping, or any other single careless mistake, would result in her blood spilling. And blood could be used for tracking, as well as other locater gifts. "No thank you," she said, slipping under his next strike, slamming a lightning-reinforced punch to his stomach. A smirk curled at her lips as he gasped for breath, winded from the blow, but he was persistent.

"Once you have the advantage, use it."

Lyra felt her eyes narrow even further at the memory of that voice, her body moving almost instinctively as she built up speed. Her feet dug into the earth, and she dodged his halfway decent blade work with an arm, positioning herself behind him in an instant. She had the upper hand thanks to her training, and it was that training which left her with no hesitation as she leapt onto his back. Her legs wrapped around his chest like a constrictor snake, arms going to his neck and twisting until she heard the snap of bone.

"Strike only if you are certain you can win, and strike to kill. No hesitation."

He crumpled underneath her, and Lyra stiffened – feeling eyes on her. She looked up, blinking as brown eyes met blue.

"I see you dealt with him," the newcomer spoke, voice low and undoubtedly masculine, no matter how feminine his eyelashes and lips seemed. "You aren't one of mine... nor are you one of Blaine's or Blaze's..." His hand went to his chin. "A civilian?" he mused, eyes snapping back to her as she pulled herself away from the corpse she'd made.

His eyes were a ridiculously bright blue, his hair a darker tone of that same colour, and Lyra felt a shudder creeping up her spine as she kept her gaze fixed on his predatory one.

She felt like a lion in front of a lamb, and she soon realised why. She'd seen his face before, though thankfully never in person – otherwise she would have no doubt been locked up years ago. He was an alpha – one of the thirteen who called a castle back in Blagmoor their main home – and coincidently one of the last people she would have wanted to see at that particular moment in time. He was the Alpha of Judgement, and he judged criminals, those who broke the law, and Lyra fell right into that category.

"Blu!" Rustling in the bushes gave way to a green-eyed blonde, dressed in a similar manner to the blue-haired one. Their coats and heavy-duty trousers looked wonderfully warm, if rather plain with only a simple black colouring to them. "Did you—?"

"He's been dealt with by this civilian," Blu remarked, ignorant of the way the hairs on the back of Lyra's neck rose with the addition of another alpha. Yet another one she had been warned about, because if Alpha Blaze were here, then his troublesome shadow wouldn't be far behind – the alpha who had the gift of teleportation, and if that wasn't a pain to escape from she didn't know what would be.