Page 58 of Dark Revolution

His stench of fear will fill my lungs, and then, and only then, will I allow him to meet the gods. The upper hall is empty. Quiet. It’s different from the courtyard. Typically, no one is allowed up here, not even Guardian Alphas. Only the most elite are allowed entrance, and I know at least one of them is occupied with my mate. Two have already fallen at my hands, which leaves just one.

Derek slithers out from a corner, his eyes pitch black and wide. An evil grin splits his face as he passes a knife back and forth between his hands. Though he has the blood rage like me, there’s still something so childish about how he lounges in the space. The new training must not include hand-to-hand combat because he stands there, leaving major points wide open.

Sliding to the side, I watch through lidded eyes as he matches me, his posture haughty and arrogant. There’s nothing fluid in his movements. They’re rigid, mechanical. Rolling my shoulders, I use my free hand to pull off the armor holding me down.

As the leader of this makeshift group, I was the one with the biggest target on my back; I had to dress in something a bit more impenetrable. That, and these Alpha assholes needed to see who was coming for them. My armor was like a banner, rallying the men below me, but now that I’m face to face with my personal enemies, I can shed the vestiges of authority and fight as I was born to. I never was one to wear the proper garments; I usually prefer to be free, light, untouchable.

Derek lunges towards me, a shrill yell preceding his movements, alerting me before he even takes a step. Shifting once more to the side, I swat him away as one would a bug or an errant child. The look of shock on his face would be comical if the situation weren’t so deadly. Again, he lunges, putting more force into it, as if that’s what’s needed.

These new Alphas are taught nothing of finesse, of deathly control. That’s why so many have perished this evening at the hands of people they consider inferior. They’re brash, all showmanship with no substance. What makes them so dangerous, however, is the force of their convictions. Hit something hard enough, and it will still crack even if you’re just using brute force.

Again, I step to the side, this time shoving him, knocking him askew. He rises up, nearly foaming at the mouth. Once more, he yells and races towards me. This time, I let him meet me head-on, and I grab him into a headlock. Taking my free hand, I slide my knife between his ribs, groaning as his warm blood coats my hand. He falls off my knife, face twisted up in pain and shock.

His heart still thunders in his chest, so I lean down, smirking as I slide the knife across his throat, watching the crimson spill out and soak the carpet below. Dipping my fingers in the blood, I slide them across my cheeks and down my forehead, mimicking the look of Elex, invoking his power.

I wrench the doors open, the stench of fear meeting me before the shuffling sounds of the Alphas. They stare up at me, their sunken eyes following my movements. I heard rumors of the breeding programs that ensured only the most elite became a High Echelon Alpha, but staring at the product of all that crossed breeding, I almost feel sorry for them.

Their bodies are emaciated with various deformities. The only Alpha that looks like it would take more than a stiff breeze to knock him over is High Echelon Alpha Varnack. Perfect. His name slithers through my brain as the lesser Alphas skitter towards the back, putting him front and center. I knew his face, and I knew the name, but looking at the selection of pathetic Alphas behind him, it’s clear they are one and the same.

A warm presence hovers at my back, and my lips curl up into a sadistic grin. “Bolt the doors, Langston.” The sound of metal as it scrapes against stone is like a death knell ringing out into the room. A strong, pungent scent of ammonia fills the space, and the beast inside wriggles about, excited about the feast presented before him.

Shoulder to shoulder, Langston and I storm forward, forcing the other Alphas to scrunch in, creating a writhing mass of fear and despair. If only the public could see their leaders now - huddling together, coated in the tang of terror and piss. High Echelon Varnack steps forward, teeth gleaming in the light from the sacred candles.

“Ahh. I knew that asswipe wouldn’t be able to stay away. Fucking runt of the litter. Always had to have his way. My nephew wouldn’t know restraint if it came up and smacked him in the head. And now we have you. Fucking Alpha from a lost time. Don’t think I don’t know who you really are.”

He pauses, flicking a switch until the back wall is filled with photos, videos, and dossiers all featuring me. “When the sinkhole demolished that Cryoprison, no one thought anything of it. Imagine our surprise when you crawled out, like a demon rising from the pit of the earth. To say we were shocked is an understatement.”

His fingers fly over the screen, moving the images until they’re a blur. “We dug into you, Jaxxon. Pulled up records that only we have access to. I love how familiar this all feels. An omega mate, bonded to you, yet spreading her cunt for another. Does it help, I wonder, to know that he’s a descendant from the lineage of Roderick? He may not resemble him, but the bloodline is there, strong as ever.”

Smirking, he strokes his chin, staring me down. “I wonder if fate keeps bringing them together. Your Annora, to be defiled by the line of Roderick. Does that make the justice more poetic? Heretics like you should be flayed alive, tortured as the lower ranks watch on, but somehow, this feels far more delicious.”

I stalk forward, blood pounding in my veins. “Oh, and just one more thing.” He continues, closing his eyes for a moment. “I had my fingers inside your precious little omega long before you did. Her juices coated my skin. I’ve never known a cunt to taste sweeter than hers. I can conjure up her taste at will. In fact, I’ve pleasured myself to her virginal memory. I’m not sure if you’ve scented it yet, but I, too, am a descendant from your nemesis Roderick. How does it feel, Alpha, to be so impotent while your mate was touched by us both?”

Blackness encroaches on my vision. I don’t care that they are from Roderick’s line; it’s not surprising in the least. Someone that slimy, that morally crippled had to come from a cesspool containing the lowest common denominator of Alpha. It’s no wonder the entire line is tainted. Luckily for humanity, I will rid Stanlion of this blight, not stopping until the line is demolished.

Lunging forward, rage carries me to his side. Arm pulled back, I swing to deliver a killing blow when he pulls out his own knife and glides it across his abdomen, crumpling as his intestines spill out over the floor. He gasps in agony, his body rippling with the pain surging through him. Should I let him suffer, lying there in his blood and guts until the gods finally take him?

The beast is not satisfied with that answer. Fury flows through me as I attack him, stabbing him with repeated blows until he’s motionless. True, he died at my hand, but he set the wheels in motion, depriving me of the need to ravage and maim. Falling to my knees, I howl my impotent rage to the heavens, furious that he would take this from me, as I hack and slash into him, needing to extinguish my indignation out onto his corpse.

How dare he take that away from me. The fact that he’s dead is not nearly good enough. I needed to be the one to make him bleed, to make him suffer. That he tormented my poor, sweet omega, and I cannot even avenge her is more than I can bear. Langston pulls me away, his deep voice pouring reason into my ears.

I still have Annora I have to think about. Fuck this piece of shit. If I can’t have him, I’ll take Caulder. Keeping my side cut off, I reach out to hers, nearly blinded by the strong vibration of terror pouring off of her.