Chapter II

The people were hungry and had started a civil war as he sent almost all his high rank into battle. The civil war got so bad that he promised himself after his first war he wouldn’t step foot into battle again as he and his men returned to nothing but poverty and chaos. Someone had tried to claim his throne and it had caused an inner war between his people.

Keilo sneered. His body fully morphed into his Lycan. There were no words that needed to be conveyed. He was going for the kill.

Ceberus tried to shift. Forcing his body to morph and yet nothing happened. He was panicking now. Something was wrong. He tried to stand up but was grabbed in the head and had been thrown off from his window.

Thud.

He didn’t fall on the grass but his front porch. He had landed on the shade of his front door.

His pack stared.

Keilo had semi-morphed back into his human side.

Stepping on the window sill he looked down.

“I’ve led us to victory. I gave our pack their freedom! You wanted a feast to start a new beginning? Well then.” He jumped aiming to land on Ceberus but he managed to roll away.

“You won’t be a part of it.” Keilo started to come towards him and spoke.

“You wanted a truce after so much bloodshed. After seeing so many fucking bodies you still wanted a truce?”

Ceberus rolled on his stomach. He wasn’t healing and he wasn’t changing. Fear and panic had settled in.

“You think a truce would be our freedom? They were going to backstab us! I’ve seen the plan of execution. I’ve tried and tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen!”

Keilo grabbed him by the hair. The sun was rising up. That’s when Ceberus noticed that none of his people had hunted. Instead, they had waited for him to be judged.

He was in pain. He tried to remove his hands from his hair.

“Now be judged and executed by the people!”

Keilo morphed back into his Lycan, throwing Ceberus in the middle of the crowd.

He had bounced and landed on someone’s feet and was kicked and spat on by some people.

Growls and howls were being heard. Dazed he went to his knees trying to stand up but as he did, he saw some were in fear and conflicted. One tried to run towards him trying to shield but was knocked out by another high rank, Gabe.

“Unworthy!”

“You coward!”

“Execution!”

“No! A duel for the Alpha rank!”

His people cheered in agreement.

Keilo spread his arms and howled.

He should have seen this coming. Ceberus was not ignorant to the whispers; he knew his pack adored Keilo as the war hero. How he was always being compared to him, but he had ignored them and shown respect to his men physically tending them. He did not know that it had shown weakness. Maybe he shouldn’t have let them snap at him at times and have shown less gratitude for their service. He was too kind, always a strategist for an outcome of less violence. He wasn’t barbaric. No. He was respectful to even those who followed the old barbaric ways. Maybe he shouldn’t have, maybe the whispers wouldn’t get through Keilo’s head, or maybe Keilo had felt betrayed and abandoned by his Alpha.

Ceberus tried to pounce as people started to give them room circling them, but Keilo had managed to grab his unharmed arm and took his broken one into his claws, and crushed his hand.

Keilo had slammed him to the ground like a rag doll never letting go of his good arm. It took Ceberus’ breath away before he knew it. Keilo had his mouth on his broken arm and ripped it.

Blood had splattered and poured everywhere.

Ceberus had screamed so loud it had overpowered his people’s howls.

He was seeing dark spots. He was puking blood. He couldn’t feel anything.

He was trying so hard to grasp for air but his throat was closing up.

Ceberus saw his arm; he didn’t know why but he tried to grab it out of desperation.

But Keilo wouldn’t let him get close. He had kicked him. As he stood in front of him.

Keilo spoke. His words were a garbled sentence, his mouth drooling in the process.

“Run, my prey.”