They can scent her. My Omega.
Mine.
I return the growl and tug up my breeches. The Omega curls into a ball, tucking her head down while the cloud of her dark hair covers her face. Her white shift is a moon-bright beacon in the night.
Golzon prowls forward, surrounded by his five closest friends. They fight like a pack, in a typical pattern I've seen many times. They think they are stronger when fighting in a group. It is their strength and their weakness.
Golzon and his pack look tough in the pieces of armor they wear to enhance their Alpha bulks. But underneath, they are soft as forest scuttlers, a bottom-feeding bug that makes an easy meal when I pry off the carapace to get at the meat.
True to form, Golzon breaks forward, facing me, expecting me to concentrate on him while his cronies fan out around me. A predictable move. They think there is safety in numbers. It will be a pleasure to show them how mistaken they are.
In the palace, they’ve never dared to attack me directly, but they’ve often murmured to each other how I am unfit to be king. Now is my chance to show them why I am the greatest Alpha in all the kingdom.
I must use caution. So much is at stake and I have someone to protect: the shivering Omega at my feet.
“What is it you have there?” Golzon asks. His voice is thick and feral, more growl than the proper speech he prides himself on. The Omega perfume hangs heavy in the air. These Alphas are close to being consumed by the rut. The Alpha madness will make their fighting styles more wild and unpredictable. It’s more dangerous, but easier to get them to make mistakes.
Golzon growls when I don’t answer, and draws his weapon. “You think you’re too good for us. A worthy king,” he sneers.
I don’t bother to reply. Golzon will not listen. I cannot tell him why I am a superior Alpha. I will have to show him.
The Alphas who hang around the palace are entitled fools who have never known a moon-cycle of starvation. Never had to challenge the ulfine packs for a chance to hunt in the deepest wilderness. I did all these things when I was still a boy.
I would have taught Golzon the truth of what I am long before now, but the Betas at court would whine and fuss if I killed my own subjects. Brokk would counsel me to punish or maim the Alphas but not kill them.
Ulfdamn the rules. Golzon and his cronies are trying to take what is mine, and for that, they will die. I should take their eyes just for looking at her.
Golzon starts to circle me. I curl up my lip, flashing a canine.
“The feral orphan,” Golzon sneers. “The barbarian. You're more animal than Alpha. Every time you open your mouth and grunt, we laugh at the Wild One pretending he can be king.”
The Wild One.This is how Golzon mocks me. He thinks I am ashamed of being a savage. It is not my shame, it is my strength. These Alphas visit the forest but I am part of it, a living, breathing extension of its power. I am one with the grasses, with the creatures that fly or slither or creep through the thickets. One with the yaknos ferns, and the reaching vines of thecex trees.
An Alpha like Golzon can never understand. When he and his cronies go out to hunt, they find the biggest, proudest prey animal in the forest, then they stand back and let their arrows do the work. They don't get their hands dirty. And it is time to show them how a real Ulfarri Alpha raised in the wild can fight.
Golzon lunges forward, holding his weapon in an uncalloused hand. At my back, two of his cronies advance. The Omega at my feet whimpers. I must make this fast.
I allow Golzon’s attack, turning so his blade slices a small chunk off my shoulder. Alphas like Golzon fear pain. They fight to avoid it.
I fight to win.
Golzon overbalances as if he didn’t expect his blade to connect. I smash a fist down on his arm, and he loses his sword.
I whirl and rip my claws through the Alpha on my left. Blood sprays. The Omega yelps as fluid spatters her. The enemy with the torn throat falls, convulsing on the grass as his life ebbs away.
The other Alphas halt, clutching their weapons. They act shocked at my brutality. They have forgotten that Ulfarri are the Brutal Ones. I will not hesitate to sacrifice every one of these Alphas, my so-called subjects. If they threaten what is mine, they do not deserve to live.
“You killed him,” Golzon says.
My growl reverberates around the grove.
“She's an Omega,” another Alpha chokes out. “It's true.”
Golzon attacks again. He's lost his weapon, but his claws are out.
I duck, dropping to all fours like the animal he says I am. I race forward and cut him off at the legs. I flip him over my body, taking care to toss him as far away from the Omega as possible. He crashes into a tree and it shudders.
Two of the Alphas have slunk away, leaving Golzon and another two. The other two circle us, growling. Their musk pollutes the air. They want to rush towards the Omega, the source of that maddening, sweet scent. One of them is a hulking monster who's smarter than he looks. Too smart to be associating with Golzon.
