Page 6

T he Alpha calls us up to the stage, and the butcher snickers as he takes a front-row seat.

I refuse to look at him, focusing on the small cafe with blue and white umbrellas out front.

“Ah, choices. Now, what should I do with these filthy rogues?” The Alpha laughs.

He knows exactly what he is going to do with us.

He is just taunting and dragging out the inevitable.

I clutch Ivy’s fingers when the Alpha grabs her arm and tears her away. My lip quivers, and the Alpha motions to the butcher as he climbs the stairs. I feel his presence behind me as he yanks the hessian bag over my head like the Alpha did to Ivy.

“Brock, let me keep this one,” the butcher says, gripping my shoulders behind me, and my entire body tenses. “What do you want her for?”

“She has a tight ass,” he says, squeezing my shoulders as his hands trail down my arms. I am thankful for the Hessian bag so that I do not have to see him touching me. Knowing is bad enough; I don’t think I can handle seeing his face as the last thing before I die.

The Alpha huffs, “No, I want them gone. Besides, you can have any of the girls at the brothel. Why would you want rogue pussy?” I hear him tell the butcher, and I let out a breath of relief.

The butcher makes a strange noise behind me before I feel him bump his crotch against my ass. “All you baby, god you make me hard,” he whispers before shoving me away, tears spilling down my cheeks.

The Alpha gives his usual speech about what a great Alpha he is and how the pack will thrive without rogue presence here to tarnish this great little town before handing down his sentence. The relief I feel upon hearing it is like no other.

“I now sentence you both to death by beheading,” the Alpha says, his voice ringing out loudly across the crowd. The crowd cheers, acceptance settling over me, and tension leaving my body. Finally.

Blindly, I reach out and find Ivy’s hand and clutch her fingers, letting her know I am right beside her, and we will go together. “Don’t cry. They don’t deserve your tears,” I whisper to her, hoping she hears me. She must have because she squeezes my fingers back and tames her emotions.

The Alpha rips her away from me, and I have to stop the whimper trying to escape me. I can just see through the Hessian bag enough to see him shoving her over the stone block. I swallow. I want to go first; I do not want to witness her death. Calm, Abbie; it will be over soon, I tell myself.

The sound of the blade dragging across the stone makes my teeth ache, and I clench them trying to stop tears freely flowing down my face and dripping onto my chest.

“What do you think you are doing?” a deep voice says, silencing the crowd. I hold my breath trying to peer out through the tiny gaps of the Hessian bag before hearing a collective gasp.

“Putting this rogue out of its misery,” Alpha Brock says.

“She is not even of legal age for this. Free her now,” comes the voice loud and clear; his aura menacing and stronger than any werewolf aura.

“Under whose authority do you have the right to demand that of me?” Alpha Brock asks, sword sliding off the stone block and hitting the ground.

“Are you questioning me, Alpha? If you do not heed my warning and let her go, I will be forced to take your life. Now free her and hand her over to me,” comes the voice with a rush bursting out from him.

The stranger’s aura bursts out, and I hear the Alpha take in a sharp breath; my knees shake as pain ricochets up my spine under its pressure.

“Lycan,” Alpha Brock gasps; though some pressure lifts the aura remains.

“Correct, it is about time you recognized your superior, Alpha,” the man says.

“Pack law says we are allowed to decide how we choose to handle rogues,” argues the Alpha.

“Yes, rogues of age; she has no wolf or else I would have sensed it. Now free her,” says the voice drawing closer with nervous laughter from the Alpha.

“You have no authority here. This is my pack,” Alpha Brock stammers.

Idiot, I think. Lycans rule, they are the superior species, and my Alpha is treading dangerously into uncharted territory.

Despite being the Pack Alpha, Lycans, no matter their status, overrule any werewolf and can do whatever they liked.

“You dare speak to a Lycan like that? Have you forgotten your place on the chain of command, Alpha?” comes another voice. You could hear a pin drop, and I am suddenly too scared to even breathe loudly.

His aura is even stronger, and I forget how to breathe under it. I thought the pain was bad before, but this is something else and if I was frozen in place under it, I know I would be on the ground writhing in agony.

“I, King Kyson, order you to free her now!” the deep voice sounds threatening, despite how calm he spoke.

Alpha Brock whimpers before the sword falls from his hands, clanging loudly on the wooden stage beside us.

Footsteps move up the steps before I feel a presence move behind me and over to where Ivy is, yet the aura coming out of whoever it is makes me tremble violently.

“You dare speak out against my Beta. Who do you think you are?” the voice booms loudly.

His anger makes his aura stronger and my knees hit the ground hard, my kneecaps feeling like they are about to split down the middle. The air is suddenly sucked from my lungs, and I am suffocating under the pressure of it.

I hear movement and a whimper as Ivy is dragged off stage and a tear slips down my face. At least she will be saved and free of this place. It is clear the man only wants her and that is reassuring, though I hope it isn’t with ill intentions.

Suddenly the pressure is lifted when the man drops his aura.

For a few seconds nothing remains but impenetrable silence.

Then the Alpha growls on stage. My startled shriek is loud as Alpha Brock grabs me in his tight grip dragging me toward the stone block.

He bends down and snatches his sword from the ground and shoves me over the block.

I close my eyes, this is it, I am going home. I let out a breath waiting for the sword to slice through my neck.

“No,” I heard Ivy cry out. It’s okay, Ivy , I think to myself, just go and live. I never wanted her to die with me, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I did.

“Please, please don’t let him kill her,” she begs someone, and I worry she will get herself in trouble.

“Please, just let him kill me. I want to be with her,” Ivy begs, and tears burn my eyes at her words.

“Stop, I want the other girl, too,” his voice booms, and I gasp.

“Hand the girl over, you heard the king,” the King’s Beta says.

Alpha Brock growls but grabs me, hauling me to my feet, then shoving me down the steps.

I stumble before hitting someone. Hands grip my arms and whoever it is growls at the Alpha.

The Hessian bag is suddenly lifted off my head and my eyes instantly go to search for Ivy.

She’s by another man who is watching her.

I don’t understand the look in his gaze, but I understand the expression on her face, relief and I rush to her.

I throw myself at her, clutching her. Ivy squeezes me and I can’t help the tears. I wanted death and this man wants her but where will that leave me now? Will I be cast away without Ivy? Death I can handle, but the unknown without her I can’t?

“Thank you,” I whispered though I wasn’t sure if I should thank him yet, still I bare my neck to him, and he nods once before his eyes fall back on Ivy.

“Follow me,” he says. Turning on his heel, he starts walking. I glance at Ivy before his Beta stops next to us.

“You heard the king, follow him,” the man says, staring at us both on the ground, though his words were soft, which I didn’t expect of him. We scramble upright, rushing after him and ignoring the shocked expressions of the town’s people.

We follow the king back to the orphanage and Ivy peers around nervously, as do I.

What does he want with us? Or her, anyway; the only reason I’m here is because she begged him to spare me.

The king walks rather quickly; we have to jog to keep up with him.

His Beta follows behind us a few steps before we stop.

Mrs. Daley is standing out the front and rushes over, staring with her mouth open, gaping at us.

“Hurry up, girls. Get inside,” she says, clearly shocked, but recovering quickly. We go to do what she says when the king opens the car door of his sleek black car and steps into Ivy’s path. He grips her arm, stopping her from passing him.

“Get in,” he says, and we stop. I clutch Ivy’s arm tightly while Ivy’s fingertips hold the side of my shirt, not willing to let me go, either.

“Your friend can come, but you are coming with me, so get in the car. I don’t like repeating myself,” he says to her sternly. I swallow, worried she wil anger him.

“Gannon, sir, may I ask what is going on?” Mrs. Daley speaks up.

“No, you may not,” the king snaps, but I could have sworn he said his name was Kyson. She went to speak again when the Beta spoke behind us as we climbed in the car.

“Be wise to close your mouth, lady, the king doesn’t like to repeat himself,” his Beta warns.

“King?” she squeaks, as I slide across the leather seat.

“Yes, King Kyson,” the Beta confirms, and she drops her head. Instead, the king pays her no attention, he reaches inside the car and leans over Ivy. Instinctively I lean away from him, but he only pulls on a strap and clips it in beside her waist.

“Seatbelts,” he says before pointing to the other beside me. I quickly copy what he did and clip it in, Ivy peers at me and I stare out the window to find the man who was smoking leaning against the car door beside me and I quickly glance away.

The king speaks to his men outside the car, and I nervously glance around.

“What’s going on?” I whisper before tangling my fingers through Ivy’s and dragging her hand onto my lap.

“Maybe they are casting us out,” Ivy whispered. I squeeze her fingers when the Beta gets in the driver’s seat, and the king in the passenger’s.

The car starts moving and I clutch my seat in panic and accidentally squeeze Ivy’s fingers too tightly. She tries to pull away, making me loosen my grip so the circulation returns to her fingers.