Episode2
948 Words
CHAPTER TWO
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I had heard the stories. I had seen the drawings scratched into the dirty walls of Sector Zero.
But absolutely nothing prepared me for the reality of the Alpha King.
The iron gates groaned shut behind him.
He was a Lycan: a nightmarish monster like the humans tagged him.
Nearly ten feet tall on his hind legs, his body rippled with muscle and fur as black as darkness itself.
His claws were the length of daggers. And his eyes, glowing, molten gold, burned with a terrifying intelligence.
Cursed.
For twenty years, he had been trapped in his beast form, unable to shift back into a man.
The rumors varied, but the most prominent one was a witch’s curse. It had binded his human form behind an impenetrable wall of primal rage.
Only one thing could ever break it, the stories claimed.
But no one knew what that “one thing” was.
And no one believed it would ever happen.
Every step he took left deep imprints in the sand. The ground itself seemed to tremble.
He looked like a god of death made flesh.
This was the tyrant who had raided the human world twenty years ago. The monster who had forced us into chains.
He moved to the raised dais prepared for him and slowly turned his massive head, surveying the arena.
The kneeling Omegas trembled violently as his gaze passed over them, foreheads pressed to the bloody sand.
Then his nose twitched.
His golden eyes locked onto me.
I was the only one still standing.
I refused to bow. I refused to kneel before the beast who treated my species as nothing.
For a heartbeat, the entire arena held its breath. Then something shifted in his expression; his lips curled amusingly, revealing fangs the size of knives.
He had caught it.
My human scent.
The silver stake hidden against my skin suddenly felt more alive.
Get close. Feel his heartbeat under the fur. Drive it through his heart.
The chant from the crowd slowly returned, quieter now, almost hesitant.
“Kill the human…”
The Alpha simply stared at me, head slightly tilted, as if I were a curious insect that had survived longer than expected.
I stared right back.
Hatred burned through my veins.
This was the tyrant I had come to kill.
And whatever it takes, I’ll make certain I survive enough to get the job done.
The rest of the wolves in the ring had their eyes locked on me now. The brief separation earlier had vanished. They were colliding toward me in a savage wave, united by the scent of easy human prey.
I braced myself, gripping my iron dagger with every ounce of strength I had left. My arms burned. Blood dripped from the gashes on my shoulder and arm. If the previous wolves had been predictable, these were different; faster, more coordinated, their strikes perfectly delivered.
We were down to ten fighters.
Nine would die.
Only one would be declared winner.
Two Omegas lunged at me simultaneously. I dropped low, rolling across the blood-soaked sand and narrowly escaping their claws. I instantly came up swinging, slashing one across the ribs. He howled in pain but didn’t fall back.
I braced myself, preparing for another attack, when suddenly a sharp yelp cut through the chaos. One of the wolves charging at me collapsed to the ground, bleeding heavily.
I looked up.
A huge, battle-scarred Omega with a hostile face had delivered the killing strike. He moved like a warrior with years of experience in the battlefield.
His scars ran deep across his chest and shoulders. They didn’t look like the marks of simple arena fights. They looked like war wounds. Omegas never went to war.
With terrifying efficiency, he tore through the remaining wolves. Claws flashed. Bones snapped. Blood sprayed across the sand as he cut them down one by one. He was clearly the strongest in the ring. The others didn’t stand a chance.
I stood frozen in the center of the chaos, my dagger raised, watching in complete shock.
Within moments, nine wolves lay dead on the blood-soaked sand. Only two of us remained.
Me… and him.
The Omega turned toward me, breathing heavily, his muzzle dripping with blood.
Adrenaline surged through my veins. I was no match for this one. The dagger in my hand would be useless against him.
Then, in a blink, he was standing right in front of me, studying me with strangely curious eyes.
Before I could move, he grabbed my wrist and pressed the blade of my own dagger firmly against his chest.
The entire arena fell deathly silent. Every eye in the stands was fixed on us.
“Kill me,” he growled.
My blade trembled in my grip.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper only I could hear.
“Only one can walk out of the arena alive,” he drawled. “Do it. Now.”
I didn’t know him. I had never seen this wolf before in my life. Why would he sacrifice himself to help me win?
Before I could demand answers, the entire arena plunged into an even heavier silence.
The Alpha King’s burning golden gaze was now locked entirely on us.
When I still hesitated, he tightened his grip on my hand and plunged the blade deeper into his own chest with a wet, sickening sound.
Poison spread rapidly across his face, turning his skin purple. Blood dripped from his nose.
I felt a sob catch in my throat.
“Vaelira sylvayne… morath kaelith” his last words before he fell face flat at my feet. Lifeless.
- Writer
