UPDATE: Idk how this chapter became private but I just posted this and the prologue again as public!
For those of you who don't know, I posted the prequel to Don't Love Me. It's about Maddox and Isabelle (not Iyla yet). It revisits their pasts and all the abuse. If you wanna check it out, it's on my profile. It's called "DON'T BREAK ME."
Anyway, enjoy this chapter! :)
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*Aletha*
He just vanished.
Before she could race up to him and take him firm against herself, he gave her a haunting look before leaving with the Death Alpha. He had tears in his grey eyes. They'd streamed down his cheeks and fell against her palms. She could still feel how hot they were, how they seared through her skin because they'd been so painful.
"No," she whispered, only looking at the air that was left of where he'd been moments ago. "No! Where did he go, Sirka?"
"Don't worry about him," said Sirka, keeping her tone neutral. "He will be alright when he comes back."
"When he comes back?" Aletha repeated. Something dark and possessive coiled inside her. That male was hers, and she'd just let him go. She couldn't save him from that anguish. Then what the hell could she do?
The small green flames flickered across her nails. She should have been frightened, or maybe a little curious from all the anomalies that were just popping up right and left from within her, but her mind was fixed on her mate. Rush. He was such a tragedy. Everything about him was horrifying but it only made her want him more, the Moon help her. She wanted his pain. She wanted his torture. She wanted all of him.
Her head pounded painfully, and her eyes stung. "I'm never going to be good enough for him," she said, looking down. The ground was blurry. She couldn't see her feet or the grass or anything. Everything was muddled, like how she felt. "I can never take away what she did to him."
"Hey, stop talking like that," Sirka ordered, a sudden flare to her voice. "No one can take away what Vicera did to him, just like nobody can take away what happened to you. It'll be there forever, and you can't do anything about it. So you better cut that shit out with blaming yourself."
Aletha glared up at Sirka. "I feel useless right now! Rush just left with the Death Alpha, because he knows it'll get bad. They think I can't help. They think..." She shook her head. "That I won't understand."
Sirka stared at her for a good while before softening her expression. "It's not that they don't believe you won't understand. Our Alpha knows you will, but his blood runs inside of you. If you were anywhere near him right now, all his thoughts would spill into you. He doesn't want to give you any pain—"
"—Well that's my decision, not his—"
"—Considering what you've already been through. And it is his decision, because it's his most private memories, and trust me, they are fucking vile." Sirka realized her tone took a harsh route, and she lowered it. "Aletha, he will be alright. The only reason the Death Alpha went with him is because he's Alpha Rush's soulkeeper. He knows how to save him. None of us really understand his past. As much as we've all suffered, Alpha Rush is still haunted and even if he seems alright, he's really not. He'll never be completely alright."
Hearing that only made Aletha more frantic. "I must go help him," she declared, trying hard to sense where he was.
Sirka's fingers came wrapping around her arm. "Oh no you don't. Like I said, some things, you can't heal. You may think you have more of a claim on him than anyone else, but the hard truth is that you don't know him like his brother by soul does. Leave it for now. If you see him...you'll freak out."
A chill went through her. "What do you mean?"
"His trauma gets physical," came Sirka's discreet reply. Aletha knew she was severely downplaying it. "And it's painful to watch. I've seen him in it once when he came back from visiting Castira, and Marik had to hold him down for two days before he gained his sanity back. Alpha Maddox couldn't come because he was in a war, but when he found out, he was there the next day to calm him down."
Aletha only stared at her, taking in what she said. Hold him down? She didn't like the image of that. She knew from her slave days how mindless she could get, and having to be driven to that state? He'd been triggered. His mother had set the trigger off again and again, relishing in the power she had over him. Vicera's influence ruined him. Aletha would never let her get away with it.
"The demented bitch!" Aletha growled, covering her face. Her nose burned and she took deep breaths before she choked on her own tears. How dare that wicked queen do that to him? How dare she hurt someone like him? She had no right to hurt him. She'd lost her right to be his mother the day he was born and she'd abandoned him.
He'd been abandoned for over thirteen hundred years. How cruel was that for a life?
Suddenly she couldn't blame him for being harsh, for losing hope, for using his power to take what he wanted. That was all he had left, his autonomy, which was still shaky. Whenever Vicera was here, his autonomy was threatened. He knew that. He knew he might lose his freedom, and in a way, he always did. Everytime she was around, Aletha saw how tense he got. She saw the strain in his eyes, the battle in his head to stop remembering his past.
That was not fair. That was unacceptable.
He shouldn't ever have to relive his past like that.
"What can I do for him?" she found herself asking. Right now, he was far away. She didn't know how to reach out to him and tell him that she was here. That it was alright. That it was okay to break in front of her because she would never judge him for it.
"Love him," Sirka replied softly. A touch on Aletha's shoulder. It was a very gentle plea to turn around. "Love him with all you've got. That's all."
Aletha shook her head. "What if that's not enough, Sirka? I want to become his strength, but what if I'm still weak and pathetic?"
Sirka growled. "You're not weak and pathetic! Come on female, what the fuck happened back in the Blood Tower? You think that was weak and pathetic? You stood up to that evil queen and you still think you're not strong? You didn't cower away, but you remained firm on your demands. You didn't lash out like she did. Seems to me that you're stronger than her. You dare to disagree with me on that?"
Aletha didn't say anything. She just rubbed her eyes, knowing her face was red and blotchy. She couldn't stop from crying when she saw him like that, or when she thought of what had been done to him for three centuries. It made her feel like invisible walls closed around herself, and she was being throttled like she'd been by those rogues. But it was infinitely worse because Rush was with her, many hands strangling him, stripping him out of his sanity, his weakness glorified by those hungry eyes. All his private humiliations were out for her to see, and it wrecked him. To have a male in his prime, so healthy and gentle and full of burning power being turned to nothing but ashes of himself...it wasn't something he wanted to reveal to her. Not because he was insecure, but because he never wanted another to witness the same darkness he experienced.
Aletha knew she had to get stronger. Despite what Sirka said, simply standing up against the vampire queen wouldn't suffice. Vicera wanted things—no, demanded things. And she would have them. She wouldn't simply settle for Fiona's punishment as Aletha's challenge. Vicera perpetually lusted after blood. And now that Aletha mentioned rogues, did she think Vicera wouldn't find a way to get her to fight one?
She would be foolish if she didn't prepare for rogues on her challenge day.
Speaking of rogues, Aletha and Sirka both turned at a sudden commotion behind them. She squinted her eyes but realized she didn't need to. She could see every detail even from miles away, and the sight of the rogues made her freeze. Eyes wide, she watched as they were brought closer and closer by Marik, who was no doubt taking them to the dungeon.
Sirka caught on fast, because she grasped Aletha's hand really tight, dragging her behind her so she could serve as her shield. "You don't need to see this."
The problem was, if she was going to fight one, she needed to get used to them.
Despite what they'd done to her.
Despite being their pleasure slave.
Despite being raped and maimed by their leaders.
So Aletha forced her feet to step aside, baring her form completely to the rogues. Some were wolves and others had shifted back. When they caught the sight of her, they leered, and disgust was all she felt. They still had the depravity in them even when they were about to be tortured and executed underground.
She hardened her jaw, keeping her lips closed. She didn't want to breathe the air they breathed, even through her mouth. So she watched silently, holding onto Sirka just in case the throbbing in her head worsened. The world was already starting to tilt, and her footing didn't seem intact somehow. She was afraid one little movement might send her collapsing to the ground.
Another uproar exploded in the large group of rogues, and Aletha discovered that Marik was in the center of a small circle of taunting wolves. When they didn't back down and instead babbled something Aletha couldn't hear, Marik's expression twisted into something deadly. And then he didn't give another warning before aiming his claws right at the rogue's face, tearing most of the flesh apart. The front of the face was gone, the skin slapping to the ground while the mutilated face gaped with empty eye sockets and mouth.
And then the ground did tilt. "Sirka," Aletha said, unable to look away from the horror done. Marik's gleaming hands were still crunching against the dead rogue while frightened shouts erupted in the air. "Sirka, stop him. He's losing it."
"That much, I can see," Sirka said, jaw hard. She headed for Marik before he could start tearing the bones apart, and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Stop it!" she growled. But he wasn't stopping. He was tearing, slicing, destroying. He didn't want to see any part of the rogue's body intact. "Marik, he's gone. He's dead. You hear me? STOP IT!"
Marik's gaze snapped toward her, his fingers momentarily stopping. "How can I stop," he muttered. "Until he gets what he deserves?"
"He already got what he deserved," Sirka said. "Death. A painful one. He's torn to pieces. All of his organs are on the ground, fucking crushed to pieces. He's never coming back." Marik began to shake his head, going back to tear some more, but Sirka yanked the flesh right out of his hand and glared at him. "Stop." He didn't listen, so she dragged him back until he was far enough not to destroy another rogue. "Take them to the dungeon, quickly!" she barked at the warriors. "Unless you want your Beta to murder them all right on the field."
The warriors began leashing the rogues while some used their blades to threaten them toward the dungeon. There was fear as well as concern in their eyes in their lingering gazes, wondering if their Beta would be alright. A few more heavily-built warriors remained close by, driving out the rogues that trailed behind.
"Marik. Marik!" Sirka slapped both his cheeks with her hands. "Look at me." When he didn't, she broke into a whisper: "Please?"
He looked at her again, this time his green eyes shattering. "Sirka."
"What triggered you? Was it something he said?"
Marik only nodded, keeping his eyes glued to her.
Sirka cursed. "It was that bad?"
He nodded again.
She backed off slightly, taking her hands back to her possession. "You need to breathe, you got me? Breathe. Calm the fuck down. It's over, soldier."
"They all deserve to die," he said with so much hatred that Aletha shivered.
"I know. That's why we're here to shit on their parades. They fuck up, and we kill 'em off. Good deal, right?" He said nothing, so she slapped his shoulder. "You okay, Marik?"
Aletha had never seen this side to Sirka before. Well, she had, but never toward a male. Sirka always expressed her contempt for them, not concern.
Marik closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His gaze flickered suddenly to the mutilated body of the rogue. The body he'd just destroyed. He looked down at his hands, and something close to dark satisfaction fell across his face. Then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm good, Sirka."
"You sure?"
He leaned toward her, whispering something in her ear. Something rippled along her body before he clapped her shoulder and gruffly yelled at the warriors to drag the felons by their asses all the way to the torturing cells of the dungeon, all of them to be severely punished until answers were obtained. When he was done ordering around, he shifted toward Aletha, his ferocious expression turning grave. Aletha almost tensed. Did he...know? About her back? She looked over at Sirka, but the Gamma had no hint of emotion on her face. She was watching Marik approach them both, almost as if she wasn't convinced he was fully sane yet.
"Luna," he spoke with a curt nod. His large form was bruised, cut around the torso and the arms the most. Claws tore at his back, and he looked as if he'd come through days of torture. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Your eyes should never have to witness the lowest forms of our species. Or me mutilating them in such a...callous manner. I have..." He trailed off before starting again. "I have dishonored you."
Aletha almost sighed with relief. So he didn't know what was done to her back. "No, don't say that," she said. "I've seen rogues before. You haven't dishonored me. Rather," her eyes flicked toward the receding figures of the rouges, some of which were being flogged while others were being dragged on jagged leashes. "You've enlightened me. I've dishonored this pack by thinking the worst of you, while all this time none of you tolerated rogues. Well, the bad ones."
He seemed taken aback by her response. "You mean you're not...you don't disgust me or fear me after what I've done to the rogue?"
Aletha frowned. "Why would I be?"
"Well, you looked like you would pass out at any moment."
"That was because I hadn't expected the blood and gore. But you've done what I've always wanted to do. I know how some rogues are, and I've always wanted to kill them. I've thought of maybe a million ways to do it, but I never did it. But you did. You do it all the time. I...ah," she hesitated, somewhat nervous. "I admire you for it."
His mouth opened for a response, and it took him a moment to get the words out. His cheeks flushed and he scratched the back of his head. "I...uh, thank you...Luna."
Aletha almost smiled ironically. "You never expected that out of my mouth, did you?"
He broke into a soft laugh. "No. Not really."
Silence fell between them before Aletha finally said what she wanted. "What did these rogues do?"
Marik looked over at Sirka, but she just waved him off like he didn't need her permission to tell the Luna. And he didn't. If Aletha wanted answers, he would give them to her. "I'm not sure how familiar you are about all the vile things that happen in the Darklands," he began.
"Trust me, I am very familiar," Aletha said. So familiar that I have scars to prove it.
Marik hadn't expected the dark tone she'd used, but it must've made her credible, because he went on. "They were found trafficking innocent girls. The girls were maybe 13 or 14 years old. Very young. All of them raped and..." He trailed off, too appalled to answer.
"Branded?" Aletha offered, her nostrils flaring. She imagined herself at thirteen, being raped and branded, and it just made what Marik said all the more personal.
His eyes widened. "How did you—"
"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "Like I said, I am very familiar. It's the wolf trafficking, an illegal and abhorrent method of trading practiced for obtaining riches in exchange for pleasure slaves. I know what happens to those poor girls." She had been one of them. And she would've been fated to a slave master who would have leashed her, muzzled her, trapped her in his torture room without sunlight or food, only to use her body for his vile pleasures every night.
Marik only stared at her. Something close to suspicion glinted in his eyes, but Sirka took over before he made any conclusions.
"Although the Death Alpha outlawed it," she chimed in, all the while shooting Marik a glare that clearly said, drop it. "That doesn't mean there isn't underground trading. There are plenty. Can you believe most of it's inspired by that vampire queen? Blows my mind every time I think about it."
Marik sighed. "Why am I not surprised she's behind all of this?"
"Why should you? Everything evil seems to take root from her. Even the apocalypse links back to her, and that is pretty remarkable. I'll give her credit for making herself so relevant to everything. Don't know how she does it."
"She needs to perish with the rogues she controls," Marik spat, now eyeing the last few warriors who looked like they'd ate muscle. "Fang," he called, gesturing toward the rogue's body he'd just shredded. "Dispose of its body. Burn it if you must. I don't want it in my sight."
Fang, a brutal warrior with bulging muscles and a seven-foot-tall frame came and started picking up the pieces of the dead body in one arm as they were child's toys. He looked at mildly repulsed before shrugging. Then he headed toward the large fire at the center of the field and threw the pieces of mutilated body parts at the fire. The fire exploded with red flames of the rogue's blood before returning to its yellow color.
The warrior's face snapped to the bloodgivers that were passing by, and he grabbed one by her waist, dragging her to him. "Eyrix," he growled. "Blood. Now."
Eyrix, a beautiful brown-haired, azure-eyed female gasped at the way the warrior's fingers raked at her dress. "Careful there, warrior. You'll rip me to pieces." Then she turned to him with a hint of a teasing expression on her face. "But you like doing that, don't you?"
A grunt came as his response before she bared her neck and he lowered his face, suddenly dematerializing out of the fields with her tight in his claws.
Aletha knew from the look in his eyes what would happen next.
Another female giggled. "Never seen lust like that before, have you, Luna?"
To Aletha's shock, it was that same female she'd seen offering herself to Vicera. She'd just materialized with a worn look on her face. Puncture marks spanned around her neck and arms, but the rest of her body remained untouched. "Vicera," Aletha said. "She didn't...do anything to you, did she?"
"Oh," the female laughed, deep and throaty. "Of course not. Although I have no problem with mating females, she nearly drained me. Another male had to step in for me. Besides," her cheeks flushed. "I haven't been intimate with anyone but one warrior. I'd like to keep it that way, if possible."
"You have a mate, Fannari?" Marik asked, shocked.
She shook her head, her form reminding Aletha of something close to a mythical, magical creature. Her black hair and yellow eyes were eerily feral but held the most serene beauty in them all at once. "No, but I've been with him for decades. I consider him more than a just a lover now. That's what happens when you leave unmated females with unmated males for centuries. We tend to become intimate, more than just the body." She tapped her heart, smiling tenderly at Aletha. "But in the soul."
"That sounds romantic," Aletha said softly. She remembered what she'd said before about wanting a family. Unmated females were usually alone, living with their families until they found their mates. But being unmated for several decades...that sounded so lonely.
Aletha knew so well what loneliness felt like. You sought company, affection, love. Anything was good enough. That was why she'd fallen in love with Lucien, because at the time she couldn't help it. He'd been all she had. He'd given her everything. He'd saved her and gave her shelter, and the relief she'd felt from those months of abuse made her see him as something close to a god. He was too good to be true and she didn't want to lose her only source of hope. She clung to him, knowing he was the only one who could protect her from those rogues.
"Sounds awfully risky," said Sirka, curling her lips down with distaste. "Once you get too close, you won't be able to stop 'till you make the sucker your world. Then what happens? Your mate walks in. Then what?"
"If he even comes, Gamma. I'd been waiting for two centuries and he's still not here. I can't wait any longer. It's very hard. We're not made to be alone."
"I'm alone and I'm loving it," Sirka said. "Yeah, I fuck males here and there, but you really think I'll settle down for one?"
Fannari sighed. "Sirka, you have always been cold towards everything. We are not like you."
"Well, I'm glad I'm different then," Sirka quipped. "Saves a lot of unnecessary drama, if you tell me. Right, Marik?"
Marik tensed beside her. His shoulders flexed and he said nothing.
"Oh, come on, you don't believe in that love bullshit, do you?"
He gave her a heavy look. "Sometimes, it just happens. You just don't want to admit it, because you never want to change."
Sirka crossed her arms. "Is anything wrong with that?"
"No," said Marik. His mouth twitched irately. "No...nothing's wrong with that."
"Marik?" Sirka said, frowning. "Is something wrong with you?"
He shook his head, shifting so that shadows darkened his face. "Look, I have to go to the dungeon. I have a lot of work to do. I'll catch you later?"
Sirka looked puzzled as she nodded. "Yeah, okay."
"Luna, please don't think I'm only a savage?" A small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Not at all," Aletha said. "Take it easy in the dungeon, alright? Don't rip them apart so easily. Think about the girls. Your main objective is to find the rest of the girls, not get satisfaction out of killing the rogues. That satisfaction is temporary. But finding the victims and being able to give them new lives? That satisfaction is everything."
Marik nodded, fisting his fingers and bringing it to his heart. He swallowed. "Fiona had once been a victim. Saving her was my greatest satisfaction. Giving her a new life, a new purpose...it was my everything. Although I despise what she's done to you and the Alpha, it doesn't change that as her brother, I would save her again if I could. Does that make me unforgivable?"
All the air left Aletha's lungs when she'd heard that. Fiona had been a pleasure slave? Suddenly, it all made sense. All her actions, the jealousy, the hatred toward Aletha when she'd betrayed Rush—because he'd been her intended. Aletha had taken her new life from her, the life that she built from scratch after she'd been rescued.
"No," Aletha said. There was a strange hollowness inside of her now. She would probably never like Fiona, but she'd never understood her before. She never understood why she'd been so cruel and terrible to her. As a matter of fact, Aletha hadn't tried to understand, did she. She didn't try to understand Rush or his pack or Fiona. She'd just hated. "That does not make you unforgivable. That makes you her brother."
Marik gave her a painful smile. "Sometimes, Luna, our pasts destroy us. Sometimes, even though we try so hard to get on the right path, it never happens. When I brought my sister back, she never found herself again. I knew it and still, I'd hoped. But it never happened. She destroyed herself. She died long ago."
Long after he'd left, Aletha still felt chills from his lingering words.
"Did you know about Fiona?" she asked Sirka.
Sirka shook her head, her face somewhat stunned. "No idea. The aristocrats don't like to reveal that sort of information. The whole bloodline would have been disgraced and shunned. That's why none of us never found out."
Fannari shook her head sadly. "No wonder why she always antagonizes others. She's a tortured soul herself. As they say, those who belittle you are usually the littlest in the crowd. They're so little that they cover up their insecurities by diverting their anger on others."
"What a cruel game," Aletha whispered. She wanted so much to hold that burning grudge she had against Fiona, but she couldn't. It wasn't right.
"Still makes her a bitch," Sirka said. "No matter what your past is, that doesn't give you a pass to be cruel to others. That kind of behavior is fucking vile, no matter the excuses. Alpha Rush had the worst past out of all of us, and does he act as repulsive as her? No. It all comes down to good and evil, doesn't it."
"Oh Sirka," Fannari said. "You will never change."
"Good."
"Luna, don't let Sirka's words bother you. She's all bark and—"
"All bite," Sirka finished. "I say what I mean and I mean what I say. End of discussion."
"Thrilling," Aletha said. "That describes you too well. You should tattoo it on your forehead, but then again, everyone already knows it so why bother?"
"Was that you trying to tease me just now?" Sirka said, her mouth perking up. "Who would have thought you got the guts in you?"
"You never know unless you try it, huh." The topic of Fiona was temporarily put to rest. "Try me, I mean."
"Oh, I got you perfectly." Sirka looked at Fannari, her gaze growing clinical. She was looking over the female's health. "You should lay down. Take the day off to replenish. You've lost too much blood and I don't want you fainting around here."
"Oh, that won't be necessary. A little blood loss is nothing. I'll be replenished by tonight after I get back to the Blood Temple. Besides, it is such a bore to stay over at the temple." Her eyes flicked to Aletha. "Do you know what we do when we don't feed warriors, Luna? We pray. Apparently, we bring harmony to the vampire and werewolf halves of the soul. But get this, to effectively bring harmony to the soul, first we must find harmony within ourselves. The elders of the temple believe that can only be achieved through sitting in the river, half-drowned, in complete silence. No thanks, I'd rather not be choked today."
"It seems like you are very honored," Aletha observed.
"Oh we are, our value comes right after the Gamma."
"Have you..." Aletha began, unable to hold in her curiosity. The idea of giving blood sounded so bizarre. Especially because she'd experienced it herself. But with Rush, there had been overwhelming lust, so strong that she couldn't even hold her legs closed because she'd wanted to mate him then and there. "Have you always been a bloodgiver?"
She shook her head. "I was once one of the aristocrats, but I hated living there. They're cooped up at the center of the pack, full of protection. They're in their own world. They're worse than the aristocrats surrounding the Night Castle. After a century without a mate, I decided I wanted to venture to the darker side of the pack."
"The darker side as in?"
"As in close to the Night Castle. And I've never seen so much death in my life before. I was horrified. I trained as a female warrior for some time before one day I saw an injured warrior being brought to the field and it was instinct for me. I gave him my blood, and decided I wanted to be part of the Blood Temple. That was thirteen decades ago."
Aletha's brows shot up to her temples. "Thirteen decades? That's very..."
"Long?" she offered.
"No. Admirable."
Fannari's eyes flashed with shock before an abrupt shift in the air caught all of their attention.
By instinct, Aletha's body hardened and she stepped closer toward the presence. It wasn't danger that she sensed. It was Lucien.
"Luna...?" the bloodgiver began, somewhat hesitantly.
"Fannari, you have to go back to the temple," Aletha told her as she looked around for the male. "I promise we'll talk another day. As soon as you're better?"
Fannari looked concerned, but she didn't question Aletha. "Of course. Please take care of yourself, alright?" When Aletha gave her a nod, she materialized out of the fields.
"What's going on?" Sirka asked, moving toward Aletha until their shoulders collided.
"Lucien."
That name was all she had to utter for Sirka to growl with outrage. "What does that bastard want now?"
"I wish I knew."
His voice began to shout out something. He was furious. And scared. Aletha had heard that hysteria in his voice once, and that was the night he'd almost had his way with her. But this time, there was another reason he was losing his mind.
"Let me see her," he growled. "Let me see Kylani! I need to see her now! Take me to her!"
"That would be a no," one of the Shadow warriors said. "Besides, you're not our Alpha anymore. We don't obey you."
"You fucking unfaithful dogs," Lucien spat nastily. "Get over yourselves. You won't have an Alpha if you keep it up."
Aletha strode forward with Sirka beside her. A hot blast of wind swirled over her. As she finally made sight of him, she realized he wasn't chained in any way. He was unbound, free to roam about. But when she looked at his torn claws, she suspected he'd ripped out of his restraints himself.
One warrior held Lucien back while another tried to gag him. When Lucien's strength proved to be far too strong against the two warriors, a third warrior joined in the restraining. This time, they'd almost subdued Lucien, but the male was shrieking and begging this time. There were frightened tears in his eyes as he shook his head, flailing helplessly.
Aletha was almost overcome with pity. She'd always seen Lucien as a strong, indomitable Alpha as she grew up in his presence. She'd seen power and strength that the entire pack was proud of. She'd never seen weakness before. But now...he was complete broken to pieces.
"Let him go," she found herself saying.
"Luna?" the warriors said, baffled at her request.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sirka hissed at her.
Aletha ignored them. "Release him. He's harmless."
"Luna, you didn't see him—"
"As a matter of fact, I have seen him. For seven years, actually. Trust me when I say that he is harmless now. Whatever he'd been those many years ago, he's not anymore. Just look at him. He is pathetic right now. Blood on his hands, dirt on his face. He's so filthy. So pathetic." When Lucien's dark eyes found her, she shook her head with resentment. "He's a disgrace."
Lucien bared his teeth at her.
Aletha took a step forward. The warriors backed away, and she circled him. "What? You don't appreciate what I'm doing for you? You should be grateful that I'm letting them release you rather than flog you like some of the other warriors did with the rogues."
"What the hell happened to you?" he said. "You weren't like this. You were so tender..." He clenched his fists, bringing them to his face. "So innocent. Just a little girl. I've kept you from the darkness for all those years, hoping you wouldn't turn out to resemble the rest of this fucking pack. But look at you. Just over a month and you've become a tainted disgrace."
Her teeth clashed against each other. She tried not to let his goading get to her, but her fingers sparked with heat. "If anything," she said. "You are the disgrace. I didn't know for years until you brought those rogues into your territory, hoping you could use me as a bargaining chip. What is that but disgraceful? You ruined the last of my innocence that night."
He snarled. "You're so daft, Aletha. Always jumping to conclusions. But that's always been you. Every little thing that happens, you are the first to assume. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Maybe it's because it's hard for me to trust when this world's been cruel to me all my life!" she lashed out. "Maybe it's because you were my only light I had and I didn't want to lose you, even though I always had a feeling I would."
The fire in his eyes extinguished as his expression softened. "You foolish girl," he said, his voice sounding almost anguished. "I wasn't going to follow through with the trade. Once the rogues believed I would sell you, I'd let them take a few steps out of my pack and I'd slaughter them. I'd have more men in my army and I'd have you. I needed power before Vicera..." He looked panicked now. His breathing sharpened. "Before Vicera destroyed my pack."
Aletha stopped circling him, going very still at his words. "Destroy your pack? But why would she ever want to destroy the Shadow Pack?"
His gaze was focused on her fingers. The slight green spark on them. Aletha coiled her fingers tightly, but her blood chilled hard. He wasn't looking at her strangeness with shock. He was watching her with dread.
"Does she know?" he asked.
"Does she know what?"
He began to shake. "No," he whispered. Then with more fury. "No!"
"Lucien, what does she know?" Aletha pressed.
But he was panicking hard. His dark eyes went wide as he looked up at her. Suddenly, he moved so fast that he was a blur. Then he was right in front of her, both his hands gripping her wrists.
"Lucien, what the hell?" Aletha hissed, trying to yank her hands away.
But his grip was firm. "Did she see this?" He shook her wrists, indicating her hands.
She slapped off his hands before Sirka could intervene, and she took several steps away from him. "What if she had? Lucien, you're not making sense."
"You don't know what you've done," he said. Pure turmoil twisted in his expression. "All these years...why do you think I've kept you in my castle most of the time? Why the fuck do you think I went as far as to make pacts with rogues to get more men to serve as my warriors? You stupid girl, I did it all for you! I did it to protect you!"
"Now that is a big lie and don't you dare say it again!" she snarled, cheeks flaming. "What do you take me for, Lucien? You've betrayed me once. Just the idea of putting me in danger and leaving me alone with men who are like my captors is cruel. You knew how much it could destroy me and you still tried to sell me to them! And now you're saying you did it to protect me?"
He lost his patience and started growling. "I already told you, I wasn't going to follow through with it!"
"How do I know that Lucien? How the hell do I know you're not fucking lying to me?" Her heart shook and she refused to believe he was good when the betrayal slapped her on the face that night. He was evil, he was a terrible, terrible male who cared only about himself—
"Because," he said, his voice lowering. His eyes were intense as the last time she'd talked to him in this pack. "Because I love you. Foolish girl, why do you think she's so hell bent on seeing you dead? It's because she knows you're special. The Crimson Pack was destroyed for a reason—"
"Fuck off with this foolery," Sirka threatened. "Don't put bullshit in her head just to try to win her over. Your heart's black and I despise males like you. So rot off or I'll do it for you."
But Aletha grew alarmed. "What do you mean the Crimson Pack was destroyed for a reason? There was another reason besides the tributes my Alpha failed to give?"
"My dear girl," Lucien said gravely. His mind was racing, Aletha knew. He had on a firm resolve, a deadly nuance of plotting and waging war. But this time, Aletha knew the battle he was planning was against something very evil. Something that plagued these lands for thousands of years. "The day I brought you to my pack, I did it at first for selfish reasons. I needed one of you to make my warriors invincible. But as the days passed, whispers started about how I harbored a Crimson captive in my pack. I brought rogues in so they could see that you had no powers. I played the fucking villain for you, Aletha, all because I wanted to protect you from Vicera—" The smell of purebloods invaded the fields and Lucien's gaze grew very narrow. He leaned closer to her and whispered, "If she knew your kind was still alive, all her efforts with destroying the Crimson Pack would have been in vain."
"What are you talking about?" Aletha hissed. "My kind? What am I?"
Lucien slowly took a long whiff of her scent, like his life depended on it. His eyes closed briefly in bliss and nostalgia. Then he pushed her hard until she stumbled against Sirka. His gaze grew cold. "I need to find my fucking mate. I don't have time to waste with disgusting witch like you."
As the purebloods followed him with their gaze, Lucien disappeared. But his words didn't. Or the look he gave her that suggested Vicera was never going to stop her antics unless she saw Aletha dead.
"What an asshole," Sirka spat.
"He wasn't lying."
"What?"
"Sirka," Aletha said, suddenly feeling like invisible walls were closing in on her. She felt trapped, stripped naked. The vampire queen knew what she was. And she wanted her dead no matter the cost. "We need to get out of here. We really need to get out of here."
"Aletha, what the fuck's wrong?"
"Now, Sirka," she said more frantically, her claws digging on Sirka's arm. "Take me back to the castle! Find Rush! Please, I can't stay here anymore." She needed to find her mate, needed to find out what she was. She needed answers. And fast.
Her time was ticking, and Lucien gave her the first glimpses of her impending death.