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Episode 26

Author: MICHEAL X
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-30 21:50:26

Vienna paces like a caged thing, her heels clicking on stone, each step a tiny detonation. Her perfume cuts through the stink – something expensive and cold, like frost on dead roses. She stops behind Arthur’s chair, trails a blood-red nail along the headrest. He doesn’t stir. Just lies there, breathing too shallow, skin still the wrong shade of ash. The machines beep, beep, beep. Mocking me.

"Thomas," Vienna says, the name dropping like a stone into still water. "Wasn’t just muscle. Wasn’t even just Silas’s dog." She leans forward, bracing her hands on the table. Her knuckles are white. "He was The Chimera Order’s failed experiment. A mongrel. Like trying to stitch a wolf to a house cat." A bitter laugh escapes her, sharp as broken glass. "Turns out, you need special glue."

Claire shifts beside me, a low growl building in her throat. I feel it vibrate through the floorboards. Vienna ignores her. Her gold eyes pin me to the chair. "Your grandmother," she says, slow, deliberate, sa
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  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 55

    The air in Arthur’s forest hangs thick, heavy with the scent of rotting leaves and something else… something fading. It’s not just the trees weeping crimson sap slower now, sluggish. It’s the feel of the place. The ancient oaks stand listless, branches sagging like broken arms. Vines choke paths that were clear yesterday. Thorns, unnaturally large and sharp, glint with malicious intent from tangled thickets that weren't there an hour ago. The forest isn’t dying. It’s forgetting how to live.The ache starts low. A familiar hollow grinding beneath my ribs. Not hunger. Not the whispers. This is deeper. Older. The Arthur-ache. A phantom limb pain for a soul dissolving into the earth. Every step deeper into the heartwood makes it worse. A physical pull, a yearning towards a vanishing point.The Child walks beside me, the purified Mirror shard cradled in their hands. Its light, usually serene, flickers erratically here, casting long, dancing shadows that twist like grasping fingers. Their f

  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 54

    A scream trapped in glass. It sits on the scarred wooden table between us, pulsing with a light that’s somehow both too bright and deeply wrong, like oil catching fire. Hierarch’s ambition bleeds from it – whispers of control, order, dominion that slither into my ears, coil around the Alpha’s growl inside me, and find fertile ground. "They fear you," it hisses, using her voice, her certainty. "Make them kneel. The power is yours. Take it. Control it."I clench my fists, knuckles white. The whispers aren't just outside. They're in. A new, insidious layer to the prison’s chorus. Kieran’s echo is muted, wary. The land’s sorrow feels heavier.Across the table, the Archivist watches. Cold eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. Her grey suit is immaculate, untouched by the damp chill seeping through the cracked walls of our sanctuary. Council observers flank her, silent, their null-tech devices humming faintly, a constant reminder of the cage they’d prefer for us. Their presence makes the air ta

  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 53

    "Stabilize local reference point," the Child intones beside me. Their voice is flat, but their eyes are wide, darting. Scanning the impossible. A wall of what looks like melted glass surges up, reflecting not us, but fragments of the Hierarch’s final moments – her silver mask cracking, her eyes wide with ecstatic terror, the Mirror shard fusing into her flesh. Then it’s gone, replaced by a forest of crystalline spikes humming with discordant notes.The whispers inside me explode. Not just whispers. Shrieks. Kieran’s echo is frantic, a trapped bird battering its wings against my ribs. "OUT! Lily, GET OUT! Her taint— it’s everywhere—" The Alpha snarls, not in rage, but in recognition. A predator scenting another predator’s kill. The land’s sorrow curdles into nausea."The shard," the Child states, pointing. Not with a finger. With their whole focus. Ahead, through a tunnel of writhing, fleshy-looking light, a dark point pulses. The Mirror shard. It doesn’t reflect. It devours the chaoti

  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 52

    Dealers hawk grimy charms in shadowed alcoves, their eyes darting like trapped birds. Everyone here sells something dangerous. Or buys it. Tonight, we’re buying information. Or trying to. The Child moves beside me, a silent ghost in a too-big hoodie. Their gaze isn’t wary. It’s scanning. Calculating threat vectors, energy signatures, escape routes. The Weaver’s chill logic, overlaying the child who used to flinch at loud noises."Focus on the seller," they murmur, voice devoid of inflection. "Third stall left. Residual chroniton particles suggest recent proximity to temporal instability."The whispers inside me coil tighter. Kieran’s ghost whimpers, a constant static beneath the Alpha’s low growl. The land’s sorrow is a damp ache in my bones. The Council’s hunters are close. I feel it. A prickle on my neck, the unnerving absence of ambient magic where they tread. Null-tech. Designed to cage things like me. Like the Child."We need the shard’s location before they box us in," I mutter

  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 51

    Brown liquid splashes. Hot ceramic skitters across wet concrete. The woman in the red coat gasps. Again. Her hand flies to her mouth. Again. The cyclist swerves, curses loud enough to cut through the drizzle. Again. The traffic light flicks from amber to red. Again.Ten minutes. It’s always ten minutes. We’re stuck inside a broken pocket watch, ticking the same agonizing seconds. Havenhill Square. 3:47 PM. Relentless.The Child stands beside me, their face pale under the grey sky. Not scared. Not really. Distant. Their eyes scan the repeating scene, not seeing the people, the panic, the sheer wrongness of it. They see threads. Patterns. The Weaver’s tapestry fraying right here, right now. Their fingers twitch at their sides, tracing invisible sigils in the damp air."The tear is close," they murmur, their voice flat. Resonant with something older. "Resonance point. Hierarch’s signature… decay vector unstable."Weaver-talk. Cold. Precise. Meaningless to the woman picking up the same sh

  • BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA   Episode 50

    They coil in the hollow spaces of my ribs, slither behind my eyes, press against the inside of my skull like fingers testing the strength of glass. Kieran’s voice is the worst. Not the Alpha’s growl, not the land’s weepinghis. My brother’s ghost, trapped in the prison of my bones, murmuring apologies, pleas, fragments of memories that sting like salt in a wound."Lily, I didn’t mean""You left me""The knife was supposed to save you"I dig my nails into my palms. The sharp bite of pain is an anchor. Real. The wooden cup in my other hand trembles, water sloshing over the rim. I’m supposed to be drinking. Resting. Healing.I haven’t slept in three days.Across the fire, the Child sits too still. Their fingers trace patterns in the dirtnot random. Symbols. Weaver’s glyphs. Their eyes are distant, fixed on something beyond the flames, beyond the crumbling walls of this makeshift sanctuary. They haven’t spoken since dawn. Not a word. Not even when I burned breakfast, when the wind howled t

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