Page 2 of God of Monsters

Titus could’ve joined them there, but he preferred the open desert, the freedom of sleeping beneath the stars and hunting. Living in a community like that felt like living a lie.

“I’m not your shackles,” Titus said. “You’re free to go whenever you like.” If it were up to Titus, he would’ve been perfectly fine being on his own, but the bastard insisted on him tagging along every trip to the hive.

“C’mon, Brother. Tell me the sight of those women in their tight shirts, nipples sticking through the cotton just begging to be bitten …” He ground his teeth for emphasis, and curled his hand into a tight fist. “I could have all of them to myself, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“And you’ll have doomed every one of them to a painful death.”

Lowering his hand, Atticus stared into the flame, seemingly thoughtful for a moment. “It’s not that I want that for any woman. But are we supposed to remain celibate for the rest of our lives? Fuck the animals we hunt, like filthy marauders?”

Titus couldn’t answer that. The frustration chipped away at him every day, so much that he feared that he might eventually crack. The insatiable appetite of an Alpha could prove dangerous for a female, if he didn’t reign it in. Hardened skin was all that kept the beast inside of him from ripping through and taking what it craved.

“We should go tonight. Before the rain hits. We’ve got plenty of venison to trade.”

“So I stand out in the pouring rain, while you stow away with a woman for an hour.”

“First, it won’t take an hour. Not if I take the redhead tonight. Second, you’re going to partake, my friend. Or, God help me, I will take a knife to your throat myself.”

Titus groaned into another bite of meat, hiding his appreciation for the savory flavor against his tongue.

Licking the grease from his fingers, Atticus tossed the scarce remains of his dinner into the flames and pulled his knees up. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Is it an audience you’re looking for? I’m certain the girl’s father would add a nice rush of adrenaline to your fucking.”

“It’s Senna. The feisty one. She made me swear to bring you.”

A shiver wound down Titus’s spine at the thought of the beautiful female. Feisty was right. She had a mouth to match the dangerous curves she flaunted, and Titus had found himself staring a number of times, when he shouldn’t have.

Was a bit of a surprise that she’d gone out of her way to request him, if he was being honest. Titus had never really been much for conversation, and the surly expression, which was as naturally a part of him as the scars all over his body, seemed to do a fine job keeping others at a distance. Which suited Titus just fine. People weren’t his thing. It was Atticus who did much of the talking and negotiating, and Titus who frequently stood off to the side, looking like a rabid wolf in case things turned squirrely.

“She insists on having you.”

“Some women enjoy torment, I guess.”

Touching her would be enough to satisfy the craving inside of him. He wouldn’t have to do anything more, impossible as it might seem to stop himself. It was the feel of soft skin he longed for, the tickle of hair across his face, the scent of a woman that twisted his stomach.

It’d be nice to fuck something more than the palm of his hand, too.

“I go with you … we leave within the hour. No cuddling, or sweet talking them.”

A grin stretched across Atticus’s face. “Is that what you think I’m doing with the time?” he asked, pushing to his feet. “Hard to talk with my face buried in a wet cunt.”

* * *

Brilliant oranges and pinks sketched the sky, where the sun hung on the edge of the horizon. The hive was a good six-mile hike, and the two preferred to travel by night most times. After all, with their numbers slowly on the rise after having suffered a major hit with the collapse of Calico, Legion still patrolled the area.

Their resentment seemed to have grown, as well as their forces. Having lost their beloved Founding Father, the soldiers had taken it upon themselves to hunt down Alphas and mutations roaming about the Deadlands. An initiative, as Titus understood, set in place by the clergymen who had since ran the moderately-sized community like some kind of religious commune. Ruling under the harsh and merciless doctrines of their God, they believed Alphas to be as evil as the Ragers and mutations that decimated the world.

So much for keeping the peace, as Wren had urged them to do, the day before they set out for the other community.

As far east as they’d set up camp, it was unlikely that Titus and Atticus would run into the officers, but traveling at night seemed to be the safest bet, anyway. Titus had grown tired of bloodshed and fighting. He longed for a peaceful and quiet second half to his life, living as a man free to wander wherever he wanted.

The road to the hive was nothing more than a worn-down path flanked by endless dirt and cacti, and the familiar shapes of burnt orange mesas in the distance to guide them. The pack of dried meat in the bag strapped across his body was less than his usual offerings, which would undoubtedly reveal his intentions behind the visit.

As darkness settled over the landscape, flickering fires of the hive up ahead cast a glow visible from the mile they had left to walk. A moment later, a blaze ignited, swallowing up one of the tents, and the sounds of distant screams carried on the air.

Taking cover behind a cluster of rocks off the path, Titus pulled his binoculars from a separate satchel to that carrying the meat and directed them on the pyre.

Beyond the lens, men scrambled about. Children huddled in their mother’s embraces. A flock of motorcycles at the perimeter of the hive gave reason for the unrest he was witnessing.