The Love Of The Mad Alpha

The smell of charred wood and death clung to the air, thick and suffocating like the sweet stench of victory. I stood tall amidst the ruins of what used to be our estate, the once-grand Baskerville stronghold now nothing more than a blackened heap of memories. The fire had done its work well, reducing everything to ash—just like I wanted. Everything. Except them.

There she was, my little queen, kneeling before me, tears streaking down her pretty face, her body trembling in a way that always excited me. Pathetic. Always begging, always weeping, and always thinking she could fix everything with those pitiful pleas. She called it love. I called it leverage.

“Please, I beg of you...” she whispered, her voice cracking like she was about to break completely.

Good. I liked her broken. I made her that way.

She used to think she was strong, my dear Isabella. Back when she thought she had a choice. But that was before I reminded her who held the power in this family. Before I showed her what loyalty looked like to a Baskerville Alpha. She thought I loved her. Maybe once I did. But love is for fools, for those too weak to grasp the real power of control. And I had control over her. Always did. Always will.

I can still see the shock in her eyes the first time she caught me in bed with another woman. The betrayal, the anger... but most of all, the confusion. Oh, how sweet it was. “It didn’t mean anything,” I told her, over and over, forcing her to swallow every lie I fed her. She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. That’s what made it so easy.

“You’re the only one,” I’d whisper in her ear later, pulling her close after I’d spent the night with someone else. “No one else could ever be my queen.” And she believed me. Every. Single. Time. She became my little cuck queen, a trophy wife paraded before the world while I enjoyed everything else it had to offer. And when she questioned me, I turned it on her. “You’re imagining things,” I’d say. “You’re overreacting.” Gaslighting her until she didn’t know what was real anymore. That’s what I do best.

And now she’s here, on her knees, begging for the life of the bastard who dared to take her from me. My brother.

Lucas. The weak, spineless whelp who always tried to play the hero. Look at him now, lying in the dirt, barely breathing. His black wolf form was supposed to be something special, destined for greatness. A wolf meant to blacken the world, they said. But all I see is a dog, dying at my feet. I choke him harder, feeling the resistance in his throat weaken as his body struggles for air.

“You fought stupidly,” I sneer, leaning closer to his ear, “which is why bastards like you will never be fit to be Baskervilles. Even with a wolf destined to do great things, you’re nothing. Look at you... how the weak who thought they were mighty have fallen.”

Isabella’s sobs grow louder, a sound that should fill me with satisfaction, but instead, it grates on my nerves. Her tears used to be entertaining, but now they’re just... tiresome. She thinks she can save him. She thinks her begging means anything to me. It doesn’t.

“Kag=” She tries to speak, but I cut her off.

“You know well not to use my name, bitch,” I snap, turning my attention to her. “And who do you think you are to beg anything of me? The only thing I regret is not tasting that sweet ass one more time. It’s been... what... weeks since I had you? I know it hasn’t been months.”

She flinches at my words, but I can see the pain behind her eyes. The disgust. Good. Let her hate me. It doesn’t change anything. I still own her. Just like I own everything else in this godforsaken world.

“You think you deserve mercy for this?” I ask, tightening my grip around Lucas’s throat, feeling the life drain out of him. “You both will die. Our family has been butchered because of you. Our deal with the Fae—ruined. We were to use this power to conquer the Vampires of Austoria, their elders especially. We would have regained our land, and all the Fae asked for was a pathetic piece of land to nowhere. Yet now...”

I can feel Lucas’s pulse weakening beneath my fingers, his skin cold and clammy. His wolf is fighting to keep him alive, but it’s no use. He’s already dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.

“Look at you, Lucas,” I say, grinning as I watch his eyes flutter, struggling to focus. “Look at how far you’ve fallen. You thought you could save her. You thought you could be the hero. But heroes don’t survive in this world. Only the ruthless do.”

His lips twitch, trying to form words, but nothing comes out. He’s too weak. Too broken.

Isabella cries out again, a desperate, pitiful sound. “Please, I beg you, don’t do this.”

Father always knew I was destined for greatness. He saw the potential in me—the strength, the cunning. But Mother... she never acknowledged it. Instead, she doted on Lucas, the bastard, always comforting him, the weak and pathetic taint on our family’s name.

I tighten my grip around Lucas’s throat, feeling his pulse weaken beneath my fingers. His eyes, once defiant, now glaze over as life slips away. Isabella’s scream pierces the air—louder than I’ve ever heard before. It sends a thrill through me, but also irritation. If only you screamed my name that loud, you wouldn’t have been discarded.

Her face contorted in terror, eyes wide and filled with horror as she watched me crush the life out of her precious Savior. Tears stream down her cheeks, her hands trembling as they reach out futilely. The raw agony in her voice is almost music to my ears.

But then, suddenly, I feel it—a colossal force bearing down on me, pressing like a weight too heavy to bear. My grip loosens involuntarily. Damn it... I can’t move... Why the hell is he here? Those two idiots were supposed to keep him drunk and out of the way.

Heavy footsteps approach each one resonating with power. Around me, Baskervilles and Wretched alike buckle under the immense pressure. Some collapse entirely, others groan in agony. Damn it, I curse internally. This can’t be happening.

“When you asked me to go on that mission with those two young pups you mentor... I thought you were just trying to get me away so you could have another massive town orgy,” Elroy’s voice reaches me, calm yet dripping with disappointment. “But I didn’t expect you to commit such a family—and possibly species—destroying blunder during your time as a ruler.”

Bolts of emerald green and black energy crackle around him—his very spirit manifesting in raw, untamed power. Some bolts even pierce the Seal, causing it to fracture. How is that possible? Panic gnaws at me. I need to finish Lucas off. I need to end this now.

“Elroy!” Isabella calls out, her voice filled with desperate hope. Strangely, she seems unaffected by his overwhelming presence. He glances at her briefly. “One moment, dear,” he says softly.

“Hey... Little Alpha...” he addresses me, the mockery in his tone unmistakable.

Rage flares within me at his disrespect. I growl, baring my teeth as I glare at him. “Listen here, eldest pup of my little brother... Sit...Boy...” he continues, his gaze piercing straight through me.

He channels more of his spirit energy, and with a deafening roar, the Seal shatters completely. The force of it pushes me back, the shockwave rippling through the battlefield. I can feel the Seal’s power dissipating. Damn it... Elroy... If only they’d kept you wasted.

But I notice something—he looks tired, sweat beading on his forehead. The power it took to break the Seal must have drained him. A sly grin spreads across my face. I may not be as strong as I was, but neither is he.

Isabella rushes to Lucas’s side, cradling his broken body. I ignore her and step toward Elroy. If I can devour him... and Lucas... regardless of the sin... If I consume both their hearts, the power I could wield would be unimaginable. I’d become godlike with the strength of the black wolf and Elroy combined.

Elroy’s eyes narrow, a darkness swirling within them that sends a chill down my spine. What the hell? His eyes... they look almost... evil.

“Don’t even think about it, boy,” he warns, his voice cold as ice.

A bead of sweat trickles down my temple. Was he... was he reading my thoughts? I try to summon my spirit energy, pushing back against the oppressive force emanating from him.

“You are weak, old man,” I taunt, masking my unease with bravado. “I don’t know how you broke that Seal, but something tells me you blew your load and you’re out of juice—with no Viagra to top it.”

He smirks ever so slightly, unphased by my words. The energy around him continues to build, the air crackling with intensity. What the hell? Where is he getting this power? His ruach is incredible.

“Okay, maybe you can get it up,” I sneer, “but try keeping it up after the first shot.”

His gaze hardens, and the ground beneath us begins to tremble. A roaring sound fills the air—not just from him, but from the very essence of his being. Damn it, I think, feeling the pressure mounting. My wolf is screaming at me to run, but I won’t. I can’t.

Why? I rage internally. I was so close to victory. Stronger than Father, stronger than Grandfather, stronger than that damned black wolf destined to bring death. But Elroy... were all the stories actually true?

I stand frozen as his wolf spirit materializes behind him—a towering apparition of pure blue energy, its eyes locked onto me. How... how is this possible? His mastery over his Zoan spirit... it’s beyond anything I’ve seen.

“You... you wouldn’t kill me,” I stammer, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice. “I am family... you would never kill family!”

He doesn’t soften. If anything, his expression becomes more resolute. “After what you’ve done,” he says slowly, each word weighted, “do you really want to take that chance?”

A knot forms in my stomach. Is he serious? Would he actually...Kill me? No...No he wouldn't dare attack me? I am his Alpha just like I am their Alpha and he will respect me!

But I can’t show fear. I won’t. Summoning every ounce of courage, I straighten up. “You’re bluffing,” I spit out. “You’re exhausted. That little display must have drained what’s left of your power.”

He steps forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. “Try me,” he challenges.

I hesitate. The oppressive force of his spirit energy bears down on me, making it hard to breathe. My mind races. If I can just outlast him, he’ll falter. He has to.

Behind him, I see Isabella tending to Lucas, her back turned to us. The sight reignites my fury. Do they think they can ignore me? That they can survive this?

With a roar, I lunge at Elroy, claws extended. “Die, old man!”

He doesn’t flinch. In a blur, he sidesteps my attack, and before I can react, his fist connects with my gut. Pain explodes through me as I’m sent crashing into a pile of rubble.

Gasping, I struggle to my feet. “Is that... all you’ve got?” I wheeze.

Elroy shakes his head. “It’s over, little pup,” he says.

“Never!” I snarl, charging at him again. This time, he raises his hand, and a wave of energy—more intense than before—slams into me. I’m thrown back, skidding across the ground.

I cough, blood splattering onto the dirt. My vision blurs. How... how is he this strong?

“Stay down,” Elroy commands.

My body screams in protest, but I force myself up. “I won’t... be defeated... by you,” I spit out.

He sighs, almost sadly. “You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

I gather the last remnants of my strength, preparing for one final attack. “I will not lose!”

As I leap toward him, time seems to slow. Elroy’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of regret. Then, his spirit wolf surges forward, its massive jaws opening wide.

I lay there, barely clinging to consciousness, the taste of blood and dirt on my tongue, my body broken but alive. I’m alive, that much I know, but I can’t move. My limbs feel like lead, and all I can do is hear him—Elroy. His voice reverberates through the void like thunder, calm yet filled with disappointment, dripping with something worse than anger.

“Eldest pup of my brother...” Elroy’s voice cuts through the haze, steady but laced with a quiet fury. I can barely lift my head to look at him, the weight of his presence pressing down on me like the world itself. I can feel it—the disappointment, the anger, the exhaustion in his voice.

“I always tried to respect you and your call into leadership,” he says, his tone firm but measured. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt. New generations take charge, I thought. Let them lead, let them learn... But now I see how wrong I was.”

I can’t move, can’t speak. My body is broken, barely hanging on, but his words are worse than any wound. He doesn’t even need to raise his voice to make me feel the weight of my failure.

“You kept me drunk, son,” Elroy continues, his voice hardening. “All this time, you kept me in the dark, feeding me liquor and distractions so I wouldn’t see what you were doing. You kept me out of the way, made sure I wouldn’t interfere while you dragged our family through the mud.”

His gaze is like a blade, cutting through the fog of my fading consciousness.

“I watched as you abused your mother and father, as you made a mockery of this family, and I stayed silent. I let you think you were in control, that you were the ruler of the Baskervilles.” He pauses, his breath heavy with frustration. “But the truth, son, is that you were never in control. You were too blinded by your own arrogance to see it.”

The shame crawls up my spine, but I can’t even lift my head to meet his eyes. His voice grows quiet, more dangerous for it. “You thought you could do whatever you wanted, that I’d just stand by and let you ruin everything. But no more. No more of this.”

His words hang in the air like a death sentence. I want to respond, to lash out, but the weight of his judgment keeps me pinned, helpless.

Elroy steps closer, his face worn with disappointment and exhaustion. “You thought you could control me, son. You thought you could keep me drunk and useless. But I see you now. I see everything. And you will face the consequences of your actions.”

The silence that follows is deafening, as if the world itself is holding its breath. Elroy doesn’t look at me as a nephew anymore—his gaze is colder than I’ve ever seen like he’s looking at someone who has already died...

The question that burns in my mind is simple yet terrifying: What will he do to me?

I try to focus, try to gather strength, but nothing works. My body refuses to obey. Damnit... where are my women? They were always there when I needed them. Sarah... Clara... Lily! Where are they now, when I need them to pull me from the brink?

I shout their names inside my mind, desperate for an answer. Nothing. Damnit, you bitches! Get me out of here... If I can just build up my strength again, I can fight back. I know I can. I’m still the Alpha... I am still Kag.

But the more I fight, the more I feel the darkness creeping in, sapping what little energy I have left. My limbs grow heavier, my breaths more shallow. I’m fading.

And as the void pulls me under, a bitter, burning thought claws its way to the forefront of my mind—Isabella.

She’s comforting Lucas.

I can picture it so clearly, her hands cradling his broken, dying body, her tears flowing for him, for the brother who fought for her, who would die for her. The image eats away at my insides, filling me with a rage I can’t express, can’t act on. That bitch. She’s with him, not me. In his final moments, it’s her touch, her love, that will carry him into the void.

That should have been me.

I feel nothing but cold. The anger surges, but there’s no warmth in it. Just emptiness. As I pass out, that thought consumes me, and my last conscious memory burns into my soul like a curse:

That should have been me.

And then, there is nothing.

A blinding light engulfs me. There’s a sensation of immense pressure, then nothingness.

Nothing...

Except......

My Heart Beat

Bump...Bump...Bump...Grrrrrrrrl...