He left a trail of blood behind him.
I almost wondered if he were trying to give up; it didn't matter; his death would not be easy.
So, I followed him through the packhouse, my packhouse, until his footsteps stopped.
I hunted him down the hall where Ezra and I had stood previously, it was the place I was that night when I found, but those memories were only fuel for my vengeance.
I want you to know that you will be erased from history entirely. Everything you hoped to have achieved, everything you wanted, was for nothing. I’ll give you some time to process that.
I studied the dust through the shut windows, and the room, and…. Was he really hiding behind a curtain?
The only thing you’ll be remembered for is the color in this hall I’ll have matched to your blood.
I mentally calculated the height and walked towards the curtain, sticking the dagger through the fabric and, hopefully, through his manhood.
The pig-like squeal I elicited from him told me I hit at least one of the marks. I pulled it out and heard him fall to his knees.
I snatched the curtain back; his hands were cupping his groin, and I crossed my arms, looking over him.
So easy to spot, this isn’t very fun.
He cried out. It was gurgled and delicious but annoying. “Why are you only linking me? Say something,” he demanded through heaving breaths.
No.
“No?” His anger was palpable.
No - I responded - You are my last pack member. I am your Alpha. I thought it would be sentimental to feel that tie break with your last breath.
He stood clutching to the wall behind him. I took a step back and motioned for him to go on.
Don’t worry. I’ll fix you right up next time.
The wider my smile got, the paler he became.
Fine, since you insist on being dramatic, I’ll give you twenty seconds.
I could smell his fear, and I basked in it; it was the most intoxicating scent. I turned, heading back upstairs.
When I found him again, he had not made it far.
His eyes shone with fear even before I wielded the hot piece of metal before him.
“Give me your hand,” I commanded, in my Alpha tone.
He had to obey; his shaky palm reached out, and I pressed the red-hot metal against it. He screamed and writhed as his skin sizzled. “Wrap your hand around it,” I commanded.
Tears streamed down his face, and his fingers twitched, but they had to obey.
I closed my eyes, basking in his screams.
“Enough,” I said and pulled it back, ripping off charred skin. The sound he made I could not catalogue with words.
I wrinkled my nose - I will not touch you down there, but this is still hot - I frowned at the fire poker - And I still want to use it. You make such pretty screams.
I smiled at him and shook with fear.
I flipped the dagger and drove it into his eye.
He convulsed and almost fell.
Shhh - I crooned - If you fall now, this might very well slip into where your brain is supposed to be.
He whimpered, trying to keep his balance, cradling his hand. I breathed in through my nose, savoring this lovely moment. Adrenaline and joy coursed through me, filling me with warmth.
I twisted the dagger and popped his eye out, cutting off his scream with the hot poker as I thrust it where his eye had been.
But then, a new brand of sound came from him.
I told you I would make it better - I crooned.
The scent might have been bad but nothing could ruin this. The sounds of his agony eased some of the heaviness in my chest.
Now - I told him - I am bored. I am done with you. Get out of my pack.
I pointed toward the front entrance.
Now!
He scrambled away, sobbing and clutching at the wall. I dropped the poker, and it hit the floor with a clang, making him flinch.
I eyed him. When he made it far enough away, I lunged to the floor and sliced through both of his Achilles heels, rendering him immobile.
The sound he made was not of this world or the next. It was pure pain. A sound I had only heard once before from that mother, the night my pack was killed.
He fell with a satisfying thud.
Crawl - I commanded.
And crawl he did, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He grunted and groaned, struggling to pull himself to the front.
I walked next to him, keeping his slow pace. Every inch filled me with satisfaction I had yearned for; I had earned.
Blood Moon was not one for undue bloodshed, not one for vengeance.
But they were one for justice.
So I walked beside my pack’s betrayer as he crawled, bleeding out from his groin.
I opened the front door for him, looking down with all the authority of an Alpha, the power he could never have.
“Why?” I asked.
“Alpha Raymond,” he gasped. “Have.. mercy... please.”
“He is no Alpha,” I snarled.
“He- he wanted to be known as a powerful Alpha. He will go down in history as the one who defeated The…. Mighty Blood Moon Pack.”
“Would have,” I smiled. “You really should have checked I was dead.”
“He wanted… glory… I wanted. Th-the…lands.” he winced. “I have seen what it could do.” I knew he was speaking of the power he held.
“What have you done with it?” I snarled.
“I.. tried. I tried. It would not bend, it just….. There was more we could do, we could have… conquered it all… but your father… he would not…. We could have done. So. much,” he gasped.
“And instead, you have accomplished nothing,” I pointed out. Knowing it was mostly in vain made it almost worse for me.
The afternoon sun peered through the clouds as he struggled to pull himself to the top of the steps. I turned him over to look at him one last time.
“If it is… any consolation,” he wheezed. “I wish I could take it… all.. Back.”
“It is not,” I snarled.
I leaned over him and whispered in his ear, “Send my pack my regards.”
I plunged the dagger into his heart. His blood blossomed across his shirt.
I yanked it out; he did not deserve my dagger in him. With a long wheeze, I had killed the last member of my pack. I wasn’t expecting to feel this alone.
His blood was too dark. It spilled down the front steps. When it hit the grass, it hissed but was soaked up immediately.
Slowly, his body paled, the blackness was drawn from him and what did not return to the lands clung to me. It was terrifying and ancient and unending.
I knew I could not hold onto to, I was not mean to wield it.
I was meant to be its protector.
I ignored the million thoughts and feeling raging through me and breathed deeply, feeling nothing, but it was better than succumbing to blind rage or the torrent of loss.
When my breathing steadied enough, when I was able to climb up from that well I lived in during a fight, I was able to look up beyond the steps.
I was met first with Ezra’s mismatched eyes filled with no fear as he beheld who I was. He nodded to me reverently and got to his knees.
Then his brothers standing next to him did.
Then, every Omega and every other countless werewolf that stood behind them.
There must have been a hundred.
Once they were on the ground I saw Nova standing tall in the back, she did not kneel but she inclined her head down toward me in a mutual understanding.
When these people arrived, I did not know, why they had arrived I did not either. But they had seen me kill Miles, but I did not sense fear, only respect.
So there I stood on the steps of my reclaimed birthright with a new pack in front of me.