Cruel Alpha, Season One (Wolves of New Eden #1)

8. Monster

8

Monster

Annalise

Caspian was vague. I was only told that there was “business” to tend to. But as I stand here, among thousands of clan members all focused toward a small stage in the center, my stomach twists.

The only time we’re ever called to gather like this is when another wolf is being taught a lesson.

One that involves their life coming to an end.

The scene is quite macabre and archaic. With only torches lighting the night, we may as well be standing here with pitchforks, spit dribbling down our chins as we shout, calling out for blood. Based on the gleam in the eyes of some, I can gather they’re here because they enjoy these ceremonies. But with the color having drained from the faces of others, I know they’re only here because of the mandate.

Feeling eyes on me, I peer up to my right. Dimitri hasn’t let me out of his sight since we arrived. His annoyance with my being here is apparent, but the feeling is mutual. I suppose I’m a flight risk, which is why I’ve been ordered to stay put, and I’m positioned strategically among Caspian’s most trusted constituents. Members of the High Chamber whom I’ve only seen through news articles or television interviews, the ever-looming Archibald Payne, and others I assume to be trusted members of the Alpha’s personal guard.

To my left, another formidable wolf stands beside me, towering over me by a foot or more. He didn’t think enough of me to introduce himself, but by hearing his name through conversation with Dimitri, I’ve gathered that his name is Creed—a dark blond-ish brute who, like Dimitri, must be Caspian’s righthand.

A sigh leaves me, knowing he put his top men on security detail for the night, hence the reason for their annoyance. My guess is that they feel work of this nature is beneath their paygrade, but what the alpha wants, the alpha gets. Always.

A point he’s made crystal clear to me and anyone else in his circle.

Several among the crowd hush the others, until we’re eventually all standing in silence. Our eyes are fixed on the stage when the alpha steps up, the soles of his shoes echoing across the hollow wood. He’s poised and confident like always. Even for an occasion as disturbing as this, he still dons the same expensive, tailored suit as when I sat with him a short time ago. Only now, he’s slipped into the jacket, and looks to have re-styled his hair. I can tell as much from the darker-than-usual tone, hinting at there being dampness from some product. With a deceptively pleasant smile and the hint of stubble across his jaw and chin, he’s almost… handsome.

My eyes flutter closed when that thought enters my head. The idea of considering him attractive—a man who’s already proven himself to be cruel and unreasonable—is unacceptable.

That smile broadens when he begins his address to the clan.

“Good evening, citizens of New Eden. I’m sure you’re all anxious to hear why I’ve brought you here, and you have my solemn promise that we will make tonight’s gathering swift.”

I glance around, noting how they all stare, listening with bated breath. I suppose I would have reacted to his false charm in a similar way had this been a week ago.

“It’s come to my attention that our way of life is under attack,” he says, and the crowd gasps in dramatic fashion. “There’s no need to be afraid. Like my father before me, I’ve dedicated my life to ensuring the safety and wellbeing of this clan. In saying this, I pray you understand why, when someone puts my people in jeopardy, I must sometimes respond with the same cruelty and harshness as shown by our enemies. Even if that enemy… is one of our own.”

He falls silent, then gestures toward someone to the left of the stage. Only then do I notice the crowd behind him parting, bodies shifting to make an aisleway. I stretch up on my tiptoes for a clearer view, but the crowd is too dense. So, it isn’t until the guards toss three bound prisoners onto the stage that I get a glimpse. First, I see their clothing—cargo pants and t-shirts stained with dirt and blood, likely their own. My guess is that, whoever they are, they were beaten and tortured during the hours leading up to this moment.

Their execution.

It’s impossible to tell who these poor souls might be, because their faces are covered with dark hoods. Caspian reaches for one’s collar and pulls them to their feet. There’s only a small whimper, but I take note that there’s no begging. Not a single word. Not a syllable.

I’m intrigued what this is about. Intrigued to hear what crime was so terrible that the alpha thought it necessary to televise this spectacle.

“I stand before you tonight to inform you that these traitors have acted against the entire clan,” Caspian shouts, abandoning his once poised demeanor. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and I feel my skin prickle with goosebumps. “Upon their capture, it was discovered that they were in possession of bombs and meant to do our people harm. Their own people,” he adds through gritted teeth as his gaze shifts to the one he holds upright.

The crowd gasps when Caspian snatches the hood from the captive’s head, but I don’t make a sound. I can’t even breathe as I lay eyes on the one standing center stage, fear present in his eyes.

“That’s…”

My lips clamp shut when both Dimitri and Creed shift their gazes to stare down on me, suspicion in their eyes. That’s when it strikes me that it might not be wise to associate myself with a wolf facing execution, but the slipup is warranted. Because the wolf facing death, is Brendan Cuthbert.

A former suitor, and before that, we were classmates.

It takes a moment, but Dimitri and Creed’s eyes eventually shift from me back to the stage. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m not sure I can take this, watching as the head of someone I’ve shared a few laughs and a few meals with is lobbed off.

But the alpha’s words ring inside my head.

Traitors?

Bombs?

Are these things true?

“As promised, I will make these executions brief, but I assure you that their souls will forever rot in hell,” Caspian declares, right before removing his suit jacket.

I breathe wildly, staring as the guard who escorted Brendan to the platform turns him to face Caspian. Brendan’s hands and feet are bound tightly, making it impossible for him to run as the guard holds his shoulders firmly. The crowd, growing restless, snickers as the front of Brendan’s pants darken with urine, likely as the reality of his imminent death finally sinks in.

Confusion washes over me as Caspian slowly rolls his sleeves to his elbows, holding Brendan’s terrified gaze. And that’s when I realize there’s no chopping block, no ax, and no executioner.

Only, I’m starting to think I’m wrong about that last part.

“ The alpha … is going to kill him?” I don’t mean to sound so small when asking, but it’s too late to pretend I’m not shaken.

Dimitri glances down at me for a moment, smirking as he answers. “My brother isn’t like most alphas. On occasion, he enjoys getting his hands dirty. Especially when it comes to pieces of shit like these three.”

My heart pumps faster, and I don’t realize I’m clutching my fists until my palms sting where my nails nearly break skin. Caspian looks positively feral as his eyes glow the eerie blue of an alpha, and he calls his wolf forward. Not enough to fully shift, but enough that his forearm doubles in width and elongating claws distort his hand.

A deep groan rumbles in Caspian’s chest, and Brendan squirms, panting as our alpha stretches his arm high into the air. And then, half a second later, the crowd gasps. A spray of blood coats the faces and clothing of those standing in the front row when Brendan’s throat is sliced open.

I stare at Caspian, watching as he enjoys seeing the last signs of life leaving Brendan’s body. A mask of red covers the alpha’s face, and his pristine white shirt is now stained and ruined. An act this primal, this violent, is unheard of within Clan Centauri. But as I watch a subtle smirk form on Caspian’s lips, something tells me this is the dawning of a new day.

One in which I’ve been sentenced to life at the righthand of a monster.

“Let this be a lesson to you all, ” Caspian shouts. “Endangerment to the wellbeing of Clan Centauri will not be tolerated. Those who defy me will be met with a violent end. Just as you’ve witnessed here tonight.”

Half the crowd cheers, singing the alpha’s praises, and the other are still in shock by the bloody show of power we’ve just witnessed. I can’t take my eyes off Caspian as I watch him revel in it all, but I wish I’d looked away sooner because I’m caught, locked in his stare when his gaze shifts to me.

He doesn’t look away, and I can’t help but wonder if this disturbing display was also meant for me. Doing away with Brendan and his co-conspirators could’ve been handled quietly and in private, but this feels like a message.

The alpha wants me to know he’s not above taking extreme measures if necessary, and as Aunt Geneva’s words are called to my remembrance, the last traces of doubt are erased.

If I don’t comply, if I don’t lay down my own will and surrender to his, I may be next, joining Brendan on the other side.

The thought of it sends a chill creeping down my spine. Because lucky me gets to have drinks with this beast tonight.

On his turf.

On his terms.

Alone.