The Alpha Heir (Kingdom of Askara Book 2) Read online

  “We have arranged a special hunt for your entertainment next week to coincide with the feast of Surya” — Warwick paused, smiling — “but I am sure you will all appreciate an extra display of your Alpha’s courage tonight.”

  The guard behind Caleb stepped towards him and hauled him to his feet, and his humiliation was complete. No human guards were allowed to touch the wolves, not even the prisoners, and while he had always been guarded by the humans, he didn’t think even his uncle would show such blatant disrespect in front of the other Alphas. He risked another glance at Gage who was watching in horror.

  “Bring the first rebel,” Warwick commanded, and the second prisoner went mad trying to fight the gammas until they tightened the collar and wheezing, the man fell to his knees. The gammas dragged the first man to the circle and untied him. He collapsed in a heap and the Alphas sniggered. Mason stepped forward and held up a large knife, and Caleb’s eyes burned with frustrated tears. The knife, the Kataya, belonged to the pack Alpha. The last time he had seen it used was by his father as he had been teaching Caleb how to throw it accurately. The knife, resplendent with tanzanite inlaid on the handle, had originally been made when Caleb’s great, great sire became the first lead Alpha of Tethra when the territories were divided. Mason gave Caleb a pointed look and then his eyes gleamed in satisfaction, knowing it had been seen. He barely glanced at the prisoner, whirled around, and threw it to embed it neatly in a tree trunk. The Alphas cheered at the display but Caleb was sickened. The inference being that even if he didn’t shift, he would need no knife and it was still no fight. He doubted if the human could even fight another human at this point, and he had no hope against a wolf.

  Encouraging cries and chants rose up from the crowd. They wanted sport, and the human was still on his knees. Mason pushed him with the toe of his boot, and the man sprawled in the dirt. Caleb looked away in disgust as the crowd cheered. How was this cruelty worthy of praise? The crowd cheered again and Caleb looked back, straight into the eyes of his uncle. His uncle was glaring at him and Caleb couldn’t even swallow. Warwick had seen the look of disgust on his face that Caleb had been too tired to hide. He would be beaten later, left to heal for a few days and the cycle would start again. It was never ending.

  The crowd cheered again and Warwick turned back to watch his son. Mason had his fingers claw-tipped and his hand around the human’s throat. The other human was valiantly trying to struggle against the collar again. Mason raised his arm, the human lifting upwards, his hands scrabbling against the claws that were biting into his neck and making more blood run. Mason glanced at the female omega he had just chosen, and Caleb felt a little pity for her. She was staring at Mason in horror and not attempting to hide it. Mason was like his father. The omega would pay for that later, too. “In honor of my new mate I will be merciful,” he announced, and she sagged in immediate relief but Caleb’s heart sank. It didn’t mean what she thought it meant. Mason turned back to the human who he now lifted nearly off the floor. It was impossible to tell the color of the man’s face under the blood but Caleb could imagine. He had seen Mason do his party trick before and knew what was coming.

  Mason laughed, tipped his head at his omega as if in deference, and then with a quick squeeze everyone heard the bone snap and saw the human sag, lifeless. Mason threw the body to the ground as if it were a bunch of rags. The wolves cheered and stomped. The omega was so white Caleb thought she was going to pass out.

  Mason threw up his arms and the wolves cheered again. Expectantly, he looked at his father, obviously waiting for the second human to be brought out, while Caleb watched as the prisoner stood frozen staring at the lifeless body of his friend. The gamma pulled on the chain to make him walk to the circle, but then the prisoner glared his hatred at Mason and stepped forward quickly as if needing no encouragement. For a second Mason looked surprised, but then he laughed and gestured to his beta. The beta threw his sword but just as Mason reached for it, the prisoner lunged forward and Mason jumped. The sword went sailing over Mason’s head and landed in the dirt. The prisoner laughed. Mason growled in fury and Caleb thought Mason was going to shift then and there. The prisoner would be ripped apart.

  “Son.” Warwick stepped into the circle. “You have ably demonstrated your courage and ability” — Caleb wanted to laugh like the prisoner — “but I think your omega would wish to have some of your attention.” The wolves sniggered at the suggestiveness, and Mason recovered enough to smile. “I think it is someone else’s turn to demonstrate their courage.”

  Caleb watched as both Maer and Aldred paled. They had both been heirs in the choosing and were both cowards even up against a defenseless human. Maybe Warwick would be merciful and let them both fight the human. At least his death would be quick.

  Warwick turned to look at Caleb and smiled. “I am granting my nephew the right of first blood in final penance for his father’s sins.”

  Caleb started in shock; whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. He glanced at the second prisoner. His height, his muscles obvious beneath the blood and dirt. The choking collar had been used, which meant the werewolves considered him a risk to them.

  Caleb stood ignoring the frequent “hear, hear” and murmured approval from the wolves and wondered if he had it in him to kill a human, to kill any living being. The thought of taking a life left a sick taste in his belly, but he was fighting for his own. Was his uncle finally giving him the chance to belong to the pack once more? And if he was, did he really want that?

  Warwick turned to the gamma holding the prisoner’s chains. “Remove the collar and chains.” Gasps rose from the crowd. Even the prisoner looked stunned. He clearly hadn’t been expecting any sort of fair fight. Then Caleb caught the half-smile on his uncle’s face and he knew. Caleb would be lucky to take the human out chained, but free and with no collar? It would be a blood-bath, but not one the human was expecting. It would be Caleb’s own blood that would be lost. The human was expecting a wolf. A fully shifted carnivore that would rip him to shreds with his claws and fangs. Caleb almost laughed. He would escape today, finally, just not in the manner he had once hoped.

  Cheers rose again, feet were stamped and tankards banged against the wooden tables. Caleb stared at his uncle in complete shock. Why go to all this trouble when both he and the human would both be dead soon anyway? Why the spectacle? Humiliation? The Alphas were still cheering and Caleb suddenly understood. It was all for show. And the Alphas would applaud his uncle. His uncle would have honored the tradition of being responsible for his dead brother’s son. There would be no blame attached to him when Caleb died, as Caleb had been given the chance to regain his honor. The honor his father had taken from him. There would be no blood on his uncle’s hands at all.

  He had tried to escape once when he was twenty, a year after his father’s death. He had gotten nearly to the border before the gammas had caught him. His weak and useless body had let him down again and the wolves had easily outrun him. Then he had been punished in the most unimaginable, horrific way. He had been dragged back to the pack circle to see ten human children assembled, two teenagers and some much younger. Some he had been almost friends with as much as he dared; the ones too young to question why he never seemed to be in the company of the wolves. He remembered looking at his uncle in confusion and then horror as the gammas had slaughtered each of the children in front of him. As Mason had hauled the first child to his feet and he had been made to watch for the first time how easily Mason could snap a human’s neck, he had sunk to his knees begging and pleading to spare their lives, promising anything … but Mason and his uncle had just laughed. The slave who had helped him escape had been tortured for five solid days before he too had been murdered and Caleb had been forced to watch.

  And Caleb had learned his lesson. He could make no further attempts to escape. He had spent another five years trying to survive every shame, every beating, pinning his hopes on Mason not being as bad as his father as well as a chance of
escape, but with every new act of cruelty he heard about, his hope slid further and further away.

  He watched the prisoner’s eyes focus on him as he walked into the ring and heard the titters from the wolves. Caleb took a breath and let his eyes rove over the man who was going to kill him; who would end his torment and finally bring him peace. He was even bigger up close. His arms stretched wider than Caleb’s thighs. Even when he was fit and fed he wasn’t sure his lean muscles would have measured up. The human’s chest was covered in thick black hair and his wide neck was corded with tension. Finally, Caleb stared into smoky deep blue eyes. Eyes full of hatred, of disgust, but that was something he was used to. People had looked at him with hatred and disgust for many years. It was ironic that the man that would crush him was probably the most beautiful one he had ever seen. Maybe in another life Caleb would be attractive. His skin smooth. His body muscular. All this one had ever given him was muscles so wasted he struggled to stand and scars so deep he could feel them in his heart.

  “You will not live, human,” his uncle pronounced. “But you may earn mercy.”

  The human glanced at Warwick. “What do you mean?” he rasped, having difficulty talking around the collar.

  “He means,” Caleb interrupted, “that if you give me a good fight you will be rewarded with the life of the other prisoner.”

  Caleb heard the hiss of the crowd as they collectively took a sharp breath. His uncle hadn’t meant that at all. He had just meant to say the human would earn a quick death but now that Caleb had made the promise in front of the other wolves, Warwick had no choice.

  Caleb leaned forward, wanting to bait him. “I will think of your dead friend when I claw out your heart.” The prisoner jerked and fisted his hands in temper. Caleb didn’t have claws but the prisoner didn’t know that, and as brave as he was being Caleb just wanted the whole thing done with. He was going to die. He didn’t want the time to turn into the coward he was always accused of being, and the more the human was riled up, the faster it would be over with. The human narrowed his eyes calculatingly, looking at him almost puzzled, and Caleb understood why. He looked nothing like a wolf. He was thin, barely five feet ten. His head didn’t reach the prisoner’s chin. He was calculating how fast Caleb would shift. He didn’t know he was unable to.

  A gamma stepped forward. The collar and chains were removed and the man held a disbelieving hand to his neck and rubbed the sore skin as the gamma left the ring.

  He took a breath and seemed to center himself. Caleb knew what he was doing: preparing for Caleb’s attack. Caleb took a baiting step and rose up for all intents and purposes like he was going to shift. Everyone knew the seconds between one form and another were the time wolves were at their most vulnerable. If Caleb had been a betting man he would have smiled because at the instant the prisoner moved, he knew he would have won. Caleb just stilled and closed his eyes. He might want to die but he had no wish to see death come for him. A sudden bloodcurdling scream rent the otherwise silent air, far away, and Caleb had a second to wonder why the man would be so foolish as to voice his intention. If Caleb had the intention of defending himself, it would have been all the warning he would have needed. He didn’t have time to finish the thought as a huge body slammed into his and they both fell, even as he felt hands at his throat. He hadn’t meant to open his eyes. Hadn’t meant to look into the eyes of the person that like so many others wanted him dead, but he couldn’t help it and he opened them, even as the fingers cut off his air supply.

  For a second, time seemed to stand still. He never had a chance to wonder why there were more screams, shouting, sounds of furniture breaking, and the metallic shriek of swords clashing. Mesmerized, he stared at the deep blue of the eyes in front of him even as the edges of his vision grew dark. Caleb didn’t fight. He didn’t struggle. He had a second to gasp a warm smoky smell that seemed to invade his lungs, so much so he didn’t miss the lack of oxygen. Caleb had expected panic, terror. He wanted a quick death so his final moments weren’t filled with the suffering that had been his constant, but he wasn’t expecting calmness. He didn’t expect a death to be … soothing. The smell seemed to bathe his skin; he just relaxed, and didn’t even feel the fingers around his throat loosen as he fell into the darkness that surrounded him.

  Chapter Two

  “Taegan!”

  Taegan lifted his head, recognizing the shout in the midst of many others and he smelled the smoke. He jerked up and scrambled off the body of the wolf, then glanced behind him. The noise was deafening, and by the goddess some fool had set the pack house on fire and humans were pouring from the building, screaming and tripping over themselves in panic.

  “Taegan, now. We have to go now.” He recognized Rego’s urgent voice and it spurred him into action.

  He looked towards the other side of the circle. “Bring Xander’s body.”

  Rego nodded and gestured to a couple of men. Two of his men ran over. “There’s no sign of them,” he said. “Wherever Rayne and Neal are being held, it’s not here.” Taegan swore in frustration. Their whole rescue mission had been a waste of time and Xander was dead.

  For a second Taegan turned back and looked at the body of the wolf on the ground that he had just been choking the life out of. Why did I let go? Why hadn’t he continued so they would have one less to worry about? Taegan saw his chest rise.

  “Taegan,” Rego spat, obviously seeing the same thing. He raised his knife.

  Taegan shot his arm out and clasped Rego’s before he could plunge the knife into the wolf’s prone body. “Fall back and rendezvous at the camp.” He bent down quickly, grabbed the limp body in his arms and tossed it over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Rego asked, horrified.

  Taegan adjusted the weight of the man. Some werewolf, he thought in disgust; he weighed less than a child. He could feel the ribs poking out of the man as he picked him up. “If he’s the Alpha’s nephew, he’s worth taking. We might be able to bargain for Rayne and Neal.” They were all out of any other ideas. It was like the two children had vanished. He ducked as one of the guards slashed wildly with a sword, missing him completely. “Give me a knife,” he gestured to Rego’s spare. He felt naked and defenseless with no weapon.

  Not that he liked killing the human guards if they could help it. Most of them were just doing their jobs and feeding their families in the only way they knew how.

  “But Taegan, we can’t restrain him,” Rego snapped even as they ran, Taegan tucking the knife Rego had passed him into his belt. “It’s madness bringing a wolf to the camp, he’ll smell how close to the vineyards we are.”

  Taegan bellowed out an order just as two wolves wrestled a man to the ground and Cy, another of his men, stepped forward, thrusting his knife with deadly accuracy. Rego rushed to help them.

  Taegan adjusted the weight of the wolf to turn and run and came face to face with the Alpha-heir. He sneered, fangs showing, saliva dripping from them that he didn’t bother wiping away. His talons were extended, but he still held a knife. “Drop him,” Mason commanded. “You’re both mine.”

  Taegan glanced at Rego but he was helping Cy. “Come and get him then,” Taegan taunted the wolf. He had a split second to acknowledge the baiting had worked as with an enraged guttural cry, the half-shifted wolf sprang at him.

  Taegan was faster and the knife he had hidden was buried to the hilt in the wolf’s chest before he had taken another breath. Taegan sidestepped Mason, his mouth open on a silent cry, staring down at the knife in confusion as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Taegan was away before he heard him hit the ground and more cries rose up. He had seconds before Mason shifted and came after him.

  “Taegan?” It was Cy. He ran to join him. He saw the horrified glance at the werewolf he still carried, and Rego joined them both.

  “We have the cage,” Taegan clipped out, forestalling any other protest.

  “And when he has lain alone in the dark for a few hours he will tell us w
hat we wish to know before we kill him,” Rego said gleefully.

  Yes. They needed information but Taegan didn’t bother voicing his reply. In less than another minute Taegan slung the limp body of the wolf over the front of his saddle, mounted, and was galloping away. He doubted the wolves would catch them. He grimaced, knowing the only time they had an advantage — the only time the wolves were drunk enough to take their eye off the ball — hadn’t been used as he’d planned to take most of them out and rescue the children, but to just save his sorry ass. Xander’s death was all his fault. He had been careless enough to get caught yesterday when they were scouting for today, and he had ruined the whole plan. The whole exercise had been pointless and he wasn’t a hundred percent convinced his prisoner was going to be worth anything, either. Familiar hatred burned in his gut. He despised the wolves. They were vicious predators who enslaved anyone or anything weaker than they were, and he wouldn’t ever stop until he had killed every last one of them.

  It took them less than two hours to get to their hideout beyond the fields of vines. Tethra wine was an expensive delicacy. In normal wine production, the burnt smell would be the sign something had gone wrong, but in Tethra it was an important process that gave all the reds its smoky taste and aroma, and it came from the natural Sulphur present in the streams surrounding the vineyards. The humans were all used to the smell, but for some reason it made the wolves quite sick. He assumed it was their heightened sense of smell, and while the wolves loved the finished product, they couldn’t stand to be near it while it was being made. The rebel hideout was in the caves immediately past the farthest fields, but the huge expanse of the vineyards taking up most of Tethra’s northern border meant that there was no one place their hideout could be pinned to. The smell drifted into the nearby villages and somehow that alone had protected them. The other advantage was the huge number of human slaves needed to handpick the grapes. No humans passing backward and forward from the area would raise much of an eyebrow as there were so many. They just had to be careful how many of them appeared at once on horseback, as slaves weren’t often given that luxury, and usually travelled in carts from the camps where they lived. One of their men kept a large horse yard for the packs, and they often posed as workers. So far, it worked well.