Page 142
Story: May the Wolf Die
She exploded, a ball of light bursting through her chest and throwing back all of the alphas that surrounded her until they slammed into the wall around me. Her power hit me as well, burning and bright.
She would have her revenge against me after all, destroying this whole arena, maybe this whole base, with her wrath.
And I would accept it as my penance.
59
MARLOWE
Rage.
The only emotion I could feel.
I had been touched and used and fought over, my body coveted and taken against my will. My consent ignored and spat on. Everyone I’d ever loved had been taken from me.
Even my own brother, my twin,my best friend—he wasn’t here anymore. Alaroth had destroyed him, too.
And I was done.
I felt the power within me intensify, and the pained howls of the soldiers was music to my ears. I was ready to end it all when a net of agony was cast over me and I collapsed, gasping for air while my body failed.
A pair of boots thudded on the ground near me, and then a familiar, awful face bent down to look into mine. “Wonderful, beloved. Beyond my expectations, truly.”
I tasted blood, and then sleep claimed me.
Gentle fingers caressed my cheek and I smiled. The skin was too soft to be Cam or Julian’s. Too large to be Archer or Elias’s. Nolan, then?
I opened my eyes, excited to see my dark-haired alpha, but it was aqua eyes and silver hair that greeted me instead, and I grimaced, turning my head away.
Alaroth clocked my disappointment and his expression soured. “Who were you dreaming of, beloved? Obviously it wasn’t me.”
I swiped his hand away and sat up, now remembering that my wrists had been broken. I looked at them, touching them softly and finding no lasting pain. Then I shook my head and looked up at the king, matching his foul mood with my own. “You almost killed me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. I was sure the Berserkers wouldn’t hurt you. And if I’d been wrong, I would have stepped in.”
But hadn’t he wanted me to control them where he couldn’t? Where Ezra…
Oh god, Ezra!
“What happened to my brother?” I cried, trying to get out of bed. My jacket had been removed, and my pants were still gone, the blanket covering my bottom half.
Alaroth laughed, leaning back casually against the headboard. “So worried for him? I hope this means your little sibling squabble has been resolved.”
A lump formed in my throat, tears pooling in my eyes and threatening to spill over. “What did you do to him?”
He patted the space next to him, and I reluctantly sat back down, keeping as much distant between us as possible.
“Destroying Ezra would have been pointless; I need the both of you. He is recovering from his injuries and will join us for dinner.”
Relief flooded my veins. I hated Ezra for what he had done, but the thought of him being dead, really dead…
I pushed the images of his broken body aside, and instead focused on the other casualties from the day.
“How many people died for this experiment today?” I asked curtly.
He shrugged, scooting closer. His hand ran over the top of my thigh. “As many as was necessary.”
“For what, though?” My voice rose in anger, my heart beating wildly. “What exactly did you need to prove?”
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