TO KILL A KING

NINE-TOOTH&CLAW

KING

I used to worry that I wasn't strong enough to be an Alpha. Not physically, but mentally.

-That I didn't have what it takes to rule over these people, and make the hard decisions that came with it. But now, staring down at the great Alpha before me who had fallen to his knees in grief, clutching his dying brother in his arms, I realised something. 

Weakness was only human.

It lives within all of us, whether you let it show or not.

Some where just better at hiding it than others.

-And I couldn't tear my eyes away from his weakness. This mountain of raw muscle and strength, completely and utterly broken beyond compare from so much as a simple dagger. His face contorted to the sky with a roar of agony as the last semblance of life slowly slipped from his bother's dying eyes. His body growing limp, but his brother only held him tighter, willing him to live. 

To make it through.

-But the light was no longer there. 

Only empty, hollow death.

I expected to feel something, anything, staring down at the pain I had caused. 

-But I didn't. I didn't feel anything at all.

I just felt numb.

The scene before me was horrific, fresh bodies littered the lawn and the grass appeared more red than green. People were running in all directions. My people, running away, chased by these demons that had the nerve to call themselves men.

It took me a while to notice that Elijah was no longer by my side, but still I couldn't move. Still frozen in time as my eyes followed the trail he had taken to the centre of the chaos.

There, in the middle of it all Elijah sat crouched, holding something distinctly red tightly in his arms. The early morning sun cast a bronze light onto his face, making his tears shine like rivers of gold. 

My breath caught in my throat with a strangled sound. Not a sob. Far more wild, coming from deep within the most primal part of myself. My clammy palms shivered and shook as they clenched around the dagger but still I couldn't tear my eyes from her.

What had I done? It was all my fault.

She lay limply in his arms, still alive, but barely.

I wanted to run to her, to help her, to cradle her as Elijah did, but the weight in my stomach tied me to the spot. It felt although it were a movie that played out before me, as I watched Farrah's wide eyes begging for Elijah to set her free from her agony.

-To cut the tie.

But she was terrified of death, as her weak hands clutching tightly his bloodstained shirt. Her blood.

The gaping red smile carved into her throat slowly draining what little life remained in her as the man that had loved her so dearly, more so than anything else in this bitter world rocked back and forth, shouting his grief in a guttural cry to the sky.

For a brief moment I felt although I were flying, and then my back slammed into one of the stone pillars of the pack house, my head smashing into the stone as I was thrown back into the midst of reality.

The world exploded in a flurry of swimming colours as black dots lined my vision. Clutching my throbbing skull, I pulled myself to my knees with a groan, still clutching the dagger tightly in my hand. A heavy kick to the gut sent me sprawling to the floor again. I cried out, but had the sense to roll as a foot slammed into the ground exactly where my body had been just moments before.

It was him. He had finally come for me.

Whilst he was off balance I reached up and slashed his thigh with the dagger. With a colossal roar he stumbled backwards, and I used the little time I had bought in blood to clamber to my feet.

There was a breathless moment between us when we locked eyes, he was bloody and raw and ravaged by grief. Letting it transform him into monster, entirely hellbent on my destruction. 

-But still in some strange way I was entranced by his beauty, and for a second I was paralysed beneath his heated gaze. Before I snapped back to the bitter reality, gripping dagger tighter in my balled fists as if to reassure myself that it was still there.

He caused this. All of this, and I would not stop until he was dead. That I vowed, that he would die by my hand.

His lip raised in a snarl and I spat back at him with equal revulsion, we didn't need words to show our hate. The same hate that consumed us, turning soulmates against one another.

Our entire union was unnatural. It shouldn't have been this way, it wasn't right. It was promised to me that it would be perfect. But it wasn't, far from that. Instead the only touch he gave me was bittersweet, the only kisses being that of his fist against my broken and aching soul.

We didn't need our beasts to fight. This was not a war of wolves. This was a battle of men. 

It started that way and it would end that way, with only one man standing.

He lunged at me, throwing his full weight into a vicious punch. He was fast but I was faster still. 

I ducked out the way just in time as his fist slammed into the stone pillar behind me, small shards of rock and dust raining down upon us like hellfire sent from the gods from the building above.

I span around to face him as I dodged his blow, using my momentum to rake the dagger deeply down his back, cutting through thick muscle and flesh. Scarlet blood blossomed from the wound. 

Bright and vibrant and beautiful, in a way.

He turned to face me with fire in his eyes, knocking the breath from my lungs. I shouldn't have hesitated, I knew that now. It had given him time to aim a blow to my face. I didn't have a spare second to move this time, as his fist kissed my skin. 

Bitter and vile and brilliant all at the same time. 

A shower of pain and sparks showering down upon me, my head flying back and I tasted blood. The bitter taste filling my mouth, as I spat it to the floor.

"Give up." He snarled, "We both know how this ends."

I wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my hand, "f**k you." I hissed, but my words were slurred with the thick copper taste.

I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me. I shouldn't have let my own impulsiveness be my downfall. I should've controlled it but instead I let it own me as I gave into the most primal parts of myself, aiming my dagger strait for his heart.

We flew at one another like the wild things we truly were, letting the real feral within take over. 

He grabbed the blade from my hand, throwing it to the floor. I lunged after it like it was the only thing that gave me some semblance of a chance against this mountain of a man. Which it was. 

I was ripped from the air midway as his fist wrapped around my throat and he slammed me against a pillar.

My feet left the ground and I was left dangling as he choked the life from me. His skin burned against mine, biting like fire against frostbite. His murderous face stared entirely emotionlessly into mine as I spluttered and gasped for air, desperately trying to pry his strong hands from my airway.

The flames from his eyes crawled down my throat, setting my lungs alight with the rushing weight of his touch. I tried to kick him, I tried to kick him as hard as I could but he didn't even flinch, instead his crushing grip on my trachea increasing, squeezing my lifeline closed.

My mouth opened and closed, desperately trying to breathe the air that my lungs cried out hungrily for. 

The world span. His face became distorted with the tiny black dots that swam throughout my vision, everything slowly turning dark. But I refused to give up.

I couldn't die. Not to him. Not now.

All the while I was slowly dying in his hands, his eyes never once left my face. Transfixed, watching my every feature steadily drain of colour, the fight within me beginning to die along with my body.

Without warning he dropped me to the cold, hard floor, now slippery with our mixed blood. I rolled over, gasping in deep hungry breaths of air. He loomed over me like a dark cloud, before shoving me back down, his massive body weighing down upon me to straddle me as I hissed and spat like a feral cat. I tried to claw his perfect face but he simply grabbed both my wrists in his strong hands, pinning them above my face as he leaned in close, so close that I could feel his rapid breaths fanning against my exposed throat as I continued to thrash beneath him, kicking and screaming bloody murder.

"Stop fighting me." He growled and he was so close that I felt the vibrations of his every syllable resonate throughout my entire being. The low sound coming from somewhere deep within his chest.

His eyes flashed darkly with something that I couldn't place as his face dipped to the crook of my neck. My chest heaved heavy with each and every intake of air, the world was beginning to sharpen now, the dots disappearing and the harsh lines of his face that I had once seen as hazy were now strong and sharp.

My entire body felt electric with the thrill of his touch, and for one brief moment, when I felt his lips brush against the side of my neck I almost forgot everything that had transpired seconds before hand. I forgot who I was. I forgot who he was. Where we were. What was happening.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Except us.

Until his canines buried themselves deep within my flesh and I came screaming back to reality.

My entire body burst into a raging inferno, everything I had been feeling previously multiplied tenfold, but I didn't allow it consume me. Instead I shut it out and used his moment of weakness to yank my wrists free from his grasp. Fumbling desperately for my dagger until I felt my fingers graze the cold silver. I clasped it within my palm, and then using every ounce of strength I could muster I slashed it across his unmarred face before plunging it deep into his heart.

His body slumped into mine with a low grunt as I hissed. "I will never stop fighting you."

***

QOTD- Who is your favourite character so far and why?

Just to clarify as know at least one of you was confused, in the first chapter Orian felt sparks when he touched King. Orian is not and was not King's mate. However the Alpha (Orian's brother) is. As they are related by blood that is why Orian felt the mate sparks when he touched King, albeit a muted version.

Any thoughts? Theories?

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