4

M A R K O V

“I killed her parents.” I gritted in anger, grabbing an antique on the table and hauling it at the wall. I watched as it collided with the wall and broke.

My beta, stood across the table, a slight frown on his face, as he listened. He tried to calm me down severally but he knew it wasn’t yielding any efforts and was tired.

“How can…how can…” I said, frustration coursing through my veins as I stared at my hands, my claws extracted. “I’m a fucking monster!”

I swiped at the table, cutting it into a clean half and watching each part of it, colliding to the floor. I felt a palm on my shoulder and I stared at my beta, with my eyes turning into a crimson red.

“Enough Markov.” He said, with his eyes golden in color as a deep frown settled on his face. I could feel him applying pressure to his hand.

If it were another beta, his head would have been sliced clean from the rest of his body. However, he was no ordinary beta. He was my howling brother and his family were friends to mine.

We’ve been brothers since I could remember. Those of his bloodline, were protectors of ours. His great father served me, before his father and then him. I am the last of my bloodline.

“You need to be calm Markov. You did no wrong. You were not in control.” He said, a pitiful expression on his face, as he tried to assure me that my actions were not within my control.

I couldn’t help but let out a pitiful chuckle. If only I could lay my hands on the witch that did this to me, I’d make her wish she were never born!

I’d rip her skin and heal her, only to do it again and again. Being werewolves meant we had a much larger life span than a human but we were never immortal. The highest we could live would be four hundred years.

Though we aged with time, it didn’t make us as weak as the humans. If not anything, it did the exact opposite because the older we are, the stronger we get.

A three hundred year old beta, could best two Alphas in a dual and come out victorious. A three hundred year old Alpha, is an unstoppable force to have. I alone am six hundred years old and it was only possible because of the curse on me.

Some years before I even met my beta’s grandfather, I encountered a powerful witch, who placed a curse on me, after having her entire coven wiped from existence by my father.q we

I was cursed to be immortal and since then, I never aged. Along with it, she cursed me with having a demon share my body with me. It would take over when the moon was out and would leave, once it was dawn. Whatever it did, I’d wouldn’t know but could get fragments of its memories.

The only way to end the curse was by death and not any death, I’d need to be killed by my own mate to end it.

“You have no idea what was happening. I’m sorry you feel this way but whatever you did or ‘he’ did, it shouldn’t make you feel responsible for it or blame yourself.” He said before I sighed, retracting my claws and letting my eyes take their natural color.

“I need a drink.” I said and walked to the refrigerator in the study room. I opened it and grabbed a bottle of cold whisky and two shot cups. “Care for a drink, Tristin?”

He smiled, walking up to me and accepting my offer. We clinked our glasses and gulped down our shots. I could feel the burning sensation as the liquor traveled down my throat.

“Tristin?”

“Yes, Alpha…”

“Markov…” I reminded him with a slight frown and he gave a nervous smile. “Don’t refer to me by my title. At least, when we are alone.”

He nodded his head in a silent apology, before setting his cup for another shot. Again, we repeated the clinking and drinking.

“What do you know about the Blood hound pack beyond the forest far north?”

His interest is piqued and I watch him drop his glass, before raising his brows in a questioning look. He then sighed before he began to speak.

“I know it is being ruled by Alpha Damien, who is two hundred years old and he has a spoilt cunt for a son. Mason, a lad in his twenties, who is rumored to be mateless.” He replied while I downed another shot and nodded my head.

“Give me more informations. How many wolves and ranks?”

“They are about a hundred and thirty wolves in the pack. There are thirty beta wolves with the oldest at hundred. They are eighteen gammas, sixteen Alphas and the rest are the Omegas.” He replied and I nodded.

“And ours?”

“We have just a hundred wolves. Fifty beta wolves with the oldest at hundred and fifty, twenty gammas, fifteen Alphas with the oldest at three hundred and fifty years old with the rest of the packs all omegas, and then, we have you.” He spoke, his tone dripping with admiration.

“That is very good.”

“If I may ask, why?” He queried as he looked at me with confusion etched on his face. “You said your mate came from the blood hound pack so I guess you it has something to do with her?”

“The blood hound pack treated her like she was a piece of discarded trash. Their Alpha watched as his son bullied and laid hands on my woman and was also in support at trying to force her into marrying his filthy son!” My fists clenched as I spoke and I could see the look of worry etched on his face.

“I do not like people messing with things that belongs to me and especially not my mate. They turned her into a slave and let her fight for scraps in the kitchen like one. They never loved or cared for her and her feelings.”

“So what would you like me to do?” He asked, his demeanor deadpan as he awaited instructions from me.

I loved this side of him. I always did and will forever love how loyal he was. How he’d never question my decision but would support me instead.

“I need you to get a message to Alpha Damien of the Blood hound pack.” I replied.

“And what do I tell him?”

“Tell him that I’m willing to let his past actions against my mate slid, if he could do one thing in return.” I said before leaning my head close to him. My eyes turning a deep red that I could see its reflection in his eyes. “I need him to send me his son’s head in a platter or he should be ready to face my wrath upon his head.”

And I was dead serious.