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Epilogue 3: White Forest Ball (Ivan)
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The Beta's Prize Epilogue 4: White Forest Ball (Genevieve)
Having to walk in behind my parents I felt like a child amongst women. Despite the stunning dress, the styled hair and jewels I’d been given, the ballroom had a strange feel about it. I felt watched ,studied, but not in the usual way, like at home in Cragstone when crowds gathered. One person’s gaze had me flustered. The smell of burning spice made my eyes widen in fear, urgently seeking out the owner. As though we were in danger of attack, then I saw Nikolai Romanov. He headed up towards our little royal enclosure furtively, as though he was breaking in. He was just as entitled to be there as the rest of us and yet his fearsomely dark eyes were stuck on me. He offered no greetings to anyone else, not even his parents. My heart flipped, what do you do when someone looks so blatantly at you? He wasn’t undressing me with his eyes or anything crude like the silly Kharkov boys. Instead, he was seriously, steadily looking at me as a person. Almost the same age as me, already nineteen and
The Beta's Prize Epilogue 5: White Forest Ball (Cillian)
I understood immediately why Papa never took us to many of these charades. Standing there in a pompous white shirt, on display like a prize pig at a fair I was happy to escape with Genevieve into the masses. I wasn’t so happy about Nikolai. We had only met briefly during a few childhood meetings but as a man he oozed anger and resentment. What for, I have no idea, but my sister and her wide eyes clearly thought it was the hottest thing she had ever seen. Silently, from my chosen distance, I watched his charisma overwhelm her, my own heckles rising. /She asked you to let her be an adult, to make her own choices/ Vez urged. Ever since first shifting and Vez came into my world it has been like having two fathers, both eager for me to prosper as Alpha. Our wolf fur was as red and fiery as my hair. I cringed, remembering how Jackson had laughingly called me the Infant Inferno, leaving me furious. Vez however, despite our fiery colour was sage, calming and fair. My papa tried to downpl
The Beta's Prize Epilogue 6: White Forest Ball (Cillian)
Without thinking I shouted “Stop!” causing the cloaked person to sprint. “GUARDS!” I screeched, unable to mind-link members outside of my pack. Why was the entire fucking castle asleep! Sprinting after the cloaked figure I saw nobody else, no guards, not even a servant to help me catch the stranger. Arriving at the huge foyer of the castle, surrounded by flickering torches, hanging tapestries and miserable grey stone walls I had nothing to follow. They had vanished into thin air. All I knew from the build around the cloak was that they were a man, a man wearing long black trousers. Giving up the chase, I headed back to my room, flights of stairs, leading me to nothing but duplicating corridors of arched doorways, presumably student accommodation. The door to my parents’ suite remained open. “Papa?” I knocked softly to no answer. /Cillian, I am so sorry/ Vez said, realising before I did that my world had been knocked from its axis, shattered like porcelain. On the double bed, wrappe
The Beta's Prize 1. Cherish
It has been a week since I was kidnapped. The first three days involved rolling around in the back of a van with a black cloth bag over my head. There were several other captives in with me although nobody dared talk much above a pained whimper. The stench of sweat and cigarettes warned us that at least one of the thugs was sitting in the back with us. Whilst we travelled, the buzz of the electric cattle prod against one wailing girl told me to bide my time. Struggling would not get me anything but injuries. Instead I tried to decipher the chatter of the drivers whenever my tied up body rolled close enough to listen. "Shame about the redhead from last month. I'd hoped she was left behind so I could have a go." "Get yourself in the Cage then, win one for yourself," a man with a throaty rasp answered. "Nah, I'm happy with sloppy seconds if I don't have to risk getting my throat ripped out," as a dirty, sleazy laugh followed. A wave of nausea hit me. “What do you think they do with
The Beta's Prize 2. Ivan
As they haul my bloodied carcass up from the cold terracotta floor the crowd's racket was deafening. "Eleven wins in a row!" "He didn't stand a chance!" “It’s not normal!” I groaned in agony, squinting into the floodlights as the blinding red mist that had consumed me slowly lifted. Whilst being pulled out of the Cage's pit I caught a glimpse of the lifeless, mangled wreckage of a body that was my opponent. Unfortunately I have no recollection of inflicting that much pain yet the metallic taste of blood in my mouth is indisputable. As are the agonising slashes across my bare ribcage. I have fought and won, again. "You'll get first pick of the prizes tonight my champ! Take them all if you want you fucking hero!" Vincent yelled over the baying crowd. "He's magnificent!" he yelled, parading me through the parting crowd like a racehorse. The stench of overheated men made my lip curl up in disgust, making them shout with delight. “He wants more, look at him!” Slaps on the back and
The Beta's Prize 3. Ivan
An hour later, standing around with the five other surviving fighters from this month’s Showcase we make a grisly scene. Our cuts, wounds, black eyes and bleeding are still obvious for a few more hours before the shifter healing completes. I notice Rufus, a man I sparred with, did not make it through his round. A pity. Yet here I am, clad in a black, soft robe with a thick red trim, still alive. Instead Denton, a black-bearded criminal gives me a silent throat slitting gesture and a smirk. He had also made it to eleven wins tonight, under the self-assigned name of Denton the Destroyer. His rival in sin, Xavier, a tattooed, wiry shifter whose sadistic cunning enhanced his physical strength had also made it to eight wins. We grimly nodded at each other, the other three had survived their first ever Cage. Rufus, Maxwell, and Brent replaced by another three identically rough looking men. Faceless entities for now. However while these new victors all licked their lips and muttered
The Beta's Prize 4. Cherish
Calm the fuck down he said. What the hell am I supposed to do, just let this red haired, beast covered in open wounds haul me to his bed? He might have looked the sanest of the men in the group but that isn’t saying much. His green eyes are dull and tired, yet he walked so quickly I had to scamper after him. How can I possibly believe he isn’t going to hurt me? The man with one eye, the way he was touching himself, eager to enjoy violating one of us. If he had picked me…I shudder and try to shake the thought away before I break down. My mind is wandering yet I haven’t moved from where my new captor left me. The sounds of water and undressing from the bathroom suggest he is telling the truth, yet I am frozen. I try to lift my tongue, to form any kind of word but it is stuck too. True, catastrophic fear, the likes of which I have never known before, has rendered me both mute and a statue. I need to run away, test how strong the bars are on his windows or see if there are any guar
The Beta's Prize 5. Cherish
My last remaining adrenalin must have exhausted itself as somehow, I fell asleep. I even dreamed. They were not nightmares of being kidnapped but instead peaceful dreams of ascending, like reaching the top of a wooded hill and basking in the nature around me. Very soothing and calming. Perhaps my brain is trying to soothe my fear-soaked body into believing I will be okay. However the instant Ivan rolled over in the bed my eyes shot open, tense, and ready, staring up at the mattress, fists clenched and ready. I am not being naïve enough to assume that just because he didn’t harm me last night he won’t pounce in the morning. Instead I hear manly stretching, grunting noises then a rustle as a face quietly peers over the bed to see where I am. Surrounded by a dozen towels in a strange little den, just my face peering out and a mass of blonde hair. I am fully aware I look ridiculous. For once his face changes, a strange little half-smile forms and he mutters, “you look like a mouse,”
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