The Alpha's Mute Mate
"Oh, sister-selves, you have no idea what you're up against. I've tasted the Primordial's true power—not the scraps and fragments you've all been playing with, but the real thing. I've let it hollow me out and fill me up again, and it was *glorious*."
The others shift, recognizing the threat, but the Tyrant-me just smiles. "Funny thing about power," she says, and suddenly the temperature drops twenty degrees, "I actually won our war. Completely. Utterly. The Primordial is nothing but ash in my timeline—along with everything else."
The words hit like physical blows, and I feel my stomach drop. She continues, her voice soft as poisoned silk: "Seven billion corpses make an excellent foundation
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