ELIJAH

My mind was racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. I couldn't stop replaying the image of Armani's death-the way they tore her apart like she was nothing. Armani was dead. She was gone, and I would never see her again. They had taken the only family I had left in this world. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but it was impossible.

My mother had died when I was only five. Diabetes had slowly drained the life out of her. After my father left us, she drowned herself in alcohol, ignoring every warning from the doctors. I was still just a child, but I remembered it all vividly, like a scar etched into my brain. No one came to save me. Instead, they dumped me into an orphanage like a piece of unwanted trash. No one wanted me. I stayed there until I turned sixteen, and then I ran. I found a part-time job, started scraping by on my own, and just when I thought I was beginning to make it, the world fell apart.

The beasts took over. They destroyed every city, every building, ripping through concrete and steel like it was paper. They tore apart anything and anyone in their way. Back then, I wanted to die. I thought it was a sign-a sign that I wasn't meant to survive. My whole life had been a nightmare, but then Armani found me. She took me in when I had no one. She became my family, my safe place. And now she was gone.

My chest ached with grief, but I couldn't afford to let the sorrow consume me. I had to stay focused. I wondered if everyone else was okay. I prayed they had managed to survive this far. I couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else.

My chaotic thoughts were abruptly interrupted as we stepped into a large courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. It looked like a celebration. My eyes widened in shock at the sight before me. Men and women were dressed like me-in sheer, revealing clothing-and they all had collars around their necks, most of them in gleaming gold. They were slaves, just like I was now. So, this was it. I was Elijah's property now.

I followed behind him silently, keeping my head down. Two men approached Elijah with cheerful smiles. It was almost unsettling how human they looked, how they could laugh and converse like ordinary people. If you didn't know better, you might mistake them for humans. They talked and joked, blending in so seamlessly that it made my skin crawl.

"Ah, Elijah! How was your trip?" one of the men asked, his voice smooth and friendly. He had rich, chocolate-brown skin and large, expressive doe eyes.

Elijah gave a slight smile. "Marcel, it's good to see you again. The trip was productive."

Marcel's gaze shifted to me, his lips curling into a cheeky grin. "You even brought back a little pet, I see. Spoils of war... We almost thought you'd never get one for yourself."

"It was about time," Marcel continued, glancing over at the second man. "See, Arnold? I told you he would eventually give in. Every beast needs a slave."

Arnold, a tall man with wavy, shoulder-length hair the color of dirt, gave a nonchalant shrug. He wasn't as muscular as the others, but he had an intimidating presence. "Hmm, yes," he muttered, as if he couldn't care less.

Elijah changed the topic quickly. "Where is the Alpha?"

Arnold scanned the area, his eyes darting from face to face. "You know him-he likes to take his time."

Marcel folded his muscular arms over his chest. "Always fashionably late," he said with a chuckle. "But let's enjoy ourselves before things get intense."

Elijah nodded, taking a glass from one of the servants passing by with a tray. The drink looked like wine, but who knew what it really was? I forced myself to look away, the thought of what they might be consuming turning my stomach.

Elijah led me towards a section of the courtyard that was clearly reserved for a select group. The seats were plush, draped in fine fabrics-a stark contrast to the hard, cold floor I was used to. It looked like a VIP area, close to a larger, golden throne-like seat. Elijah sat down, then motioned for me to kneel behind him where the other slaves of the high-ranking beasts were gathered. I obeyed, sinking down quietly.

A beautiful woman with bright blonde hair sat next to Elijah, her smile almost warm. "Elijah," she greeted him, her voice smooth and melodic. Her slave, a large, muscular man with dark brown hair, stood obediently beside her. He was strikingly handsome, with blue eyes that mirrored her own.

"Becca," Elijah replied with a nod. "How have you been?"

Becca gestured for her slave to kneel before she responded, her smile fading slightly. "I've been well. Your brother hasn't arrived yet."

Elijah smirked, sipping his drink. "He'll arrive when he pleases. Perks of being the leader."

Becca pursed her lips, looking annoyed but didn't reply. Her hair was almost white in its brilliance, and her blue eyes were sharp and icy. She was easily one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, yet there was something unsettling about her, something that made my skin crawl.

I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in my throat. I couldn't remember the last time I had any water. The slave next to me, the handsome man with the dark brown hair, gave me a small nod and a sympathetic smile. I returned the gesture, guessing that speaking out loud wasn't allowed.

"Jordan," he whispered, barely audible.

I managed a faint smile. "Liz," I whispered back.

He leaned closer. "Just stay invisible, Liz. If you do, it won't be so bad."

I nodded, grateful for his kindness, but before I could say anything more, the slaves around us shushed us. A sudden silence fell over the entire courtyard. Everyone stopped talking and moving, their gazes shifting towards the grand entrance. My heart pounded in my chest. It felt like the air itself was charged with tension. This had to be the Alpha. He must have been someone of immense importance.

The large doors ahead creaked open, and a figure stepped through. My breath caught in my throat. He was dressed in black from head to toe, the dark fabric clinging to his powerful frame. His jet-black hair, long and wavy, framed a face that could have belonged to a fallen angel-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that curled into a slight, knowing smirk. But it was his eyes that held me captive-silver-gray, almost transparent, like shards of ice. They scanned the room, and when they landed on me, I felt like I was staring into the void.

I held my breath, feeling the tiny hairs on my arms stand up. This man was different. His very presence felt like raw power. It radiated off him in waves, suffocating the air around us. He moved with a deadly grace, every step purposeful, as if the earth itself bowed beneath his feet.

He stopped in front of the golden seat, then turned. His silver eyes locked onto mine, and a strange, almost predatory smile spread across his face. I felt a shiver of pure terror course through me. I coughed-of all things, I fucking coughed-drawing everyone's attention to me. It was as if time itself had frozen. I knew then that I was dead.

"Mate," he said, his voice a low, resonant growl that sent a chill down my spine. He started walking towards me, and it felt like death was coming for me.

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