He is without a pack,
He is without a mate,
And he is without a wolf,
He is the sanctuary of brutality, a slaughter that waits for its turn.
He is Killian, the beast built with strength, power, and chaos that yearns for a reign, not of an Alpha, but...
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Powerful.
Aggressive.
Ruling.
It was as if the harsh wind carried Killian's rage, hitting hard against the werewolves as they fought the urge to bend and flee from their positions.
I watched in my own torture as I felt the havoc draw nearer, my fingers curling deep and digging hard into the ground as I battled with the searing pain inflicted by the silver whip.
"Killian," I breathed out.
Everyone took on a frigid stance as two, vivid blue eyes had emerged from the darkness of the forest and pinned them all to the ground.
Killian's posture was straight and unwavering. The fine build of his muscles were taut and emphasized as he took one threatening step to the other, and the very thing that rendered me in awe were his eyes; they were both completely blue and aglow, and I knew that the predator that had long been hiding beneath him had surged forward to greet us all.
How much of Killian was left within those feral blue eyes was a question I couldn't answer, because at that moment, the wild ruled the entirety of him.
It was within a small moment that his eyes landed on me, and the weight of his gaze quickly shifted to express his internal agony at the beaten sight of me, before locking his jaw tight and landing his scorching glare back on Azeil.
My fingers itched to reach out to him as I sought the comfort of his skin, my body responding all too eagerly from the draw of his strength.
I glanced at the Alpha who stood stiffly behind me, his grey eyes finally acknowledging the true contender to his crown.
Azeil had been avoiding Killian's challenge for a long time, he thought he could put a stop to the death of his title, but all that he could do was delay his inevitable loss.
Azeil didn't deserve to rule, nor be followed by an entire pack.
Killian's nature was screaming out his wrath, the potential within him no longer hidden beneath the influence of a drug.
There was no turning down Killian's challenge anymore, now that everyone witnessed the extent of his theat, Azeil had no other choice but to defend his undeserved reign.
An Alpha against the beast made solely for slaughter; both willing to fight for a purpose they held dear.
"You should know who you're waging your war with, mutt," Azeil spat, his lips curling back to reveal his threat.
Killian all but remained silent, but the way his body was buzzing from his brimming rage was enough to let everyone know that he was out to tear a werewolf's throat.
More specifically, Alpha Azeil's.
No one could sway him, not even the Alpha of my pack, and that realization alone had Azeil growling out his hostility.
