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Alaroth wrapped his arm around me and settled back into his chair, his hand gripping my shoulder tightly. I fought against my instincts and loosened my muscles, leaning into him casually.

He rubbed his nose along the outer shell of my ear. “Even a moment away from you feels like a lifetime, beloved.”

Barf.

I patted his knee with my hand, pretending to silently agree. He knew it was all pretend on my part, but as long as the true feelings in my heart never revealed themselves, he didn’t care.

A horn blew from on top of a small tower on the other side of the arena, and the gates finally opened.

Two small groups of six alphas each entered, one with faces painted red and the other blue, dressed only in loincloths and carrying short swords and rounded shields. They lined up to face each other and Ezra came out to stand in the middle, inspecting each soldier carefully.

Like gladiators of Rome, these alphas had bodies built for combat. Their large, bulky muscles were well protected under a thin layer of fat, the sun glistening off the thin sheet of sweat and oil on their tanned skin. The hair on their heads was cut short, their faces clean shaven. A vacant, almost haunting look lived in their eyes.

For however large they were, though, Ezra still towered above them. He nodded towards one from each group, who remained in the center while the others backed up to the edge.

My brother slapped each on the shoulder, resting his foreheadon theirs as he whispered something I was too far away to hear. Words of encouragement, perhaps.

Ezra backed up and the horn sounded again, and they immediately sprang into battle.

Steel clashed as they circled, their shields raised. The red alpha lunged forward, narrowly missing as the blue alpha parried, countering with a swift strike. Dirt sprayed in the air from quick foot work, and I held my breath as a feint drew an opening for the red. He disarmed his opponent, swinging his sword towards his neck.

I covered my eyes as all of the alphas yelled, “Stop!” in unison.

The ring became silent, save for the fighters’ heavy breathing. They paused, mid-strike, waiting to be dismissed.

Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Ezra stepped forward.

“End it,” he barked.

Red swung his sword back again, pausing once more as Alaroth now issued his own orders to stop. But Ezra, his face tight and resolute, barked at him again to kill his opponent.

I closed my eyes, hearing the sick sound of metal tearing through flesh.

One by one, the alpha soldiers paired up and fought, the other alphas’ and the king’s orders to stop being overridden by Ezra’s bark, until only the victors remained.

The blood, the senseless violence and death… I was shaking with anger. The king, however, was absolutely delighted in each kill, happily sipping wine and eating cheese-stuffed pastries like we were at the movies. When he tried to feed me and I recoiled, he grunted in annoyance. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

Think of the pack.

“It just feels like a waste,” I answered, trying to sound unbothered. I opened my mouth and accepted the food. “Couldn’t you have proven Ezra’s power the other way, where he tells them to yield?”

He scoffed, giving Nivardi a pointed look before responding to me like I was an idiot. “Culling the weak is never a waste.”

“Hm, agree to disagree.”

With his hand wrapping around my braid, he pulled my head back slightly to look at me. His aqua eyes bore into mine, a smirk growing on his cruel face. “Well then, I’m very interested to see how you react next.”

After the bodies had all been cleared from the ring, the winners lined up on one side. Their expressions still betrayed nothingof how they felt. Were they proud of themselves? Did they mourn the death of their comrades? Had they maybe even been friends?

Nivardi still stood off to the side of the platform, not wanting to get too close to me. He watched the demonstration with his arms crossed. One finger tapped on his elbow, and if I had to guess, he seemed nervous.

Ezra came up to the platform and bowed his head. “I hope I have proved the strength of my control, Your Majesty.”

Alaroth stood up and took my hand, leading me to the edge. “You have, thank you, Ezra.” With a quick nod, the soldier on top of the tower blew his horn again, and the gates opened once more.

This time, instead of a well-disciplined unit of warriors, a cage was rolled inside on a large dolly. The alpha inside growled viciously, shaking the bars and snarling at the males who stood near them. Unlike the other alphas, this male was unkempt, his hair and beard long and shaggy.

He looked rabid.