In For The Kill (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Two

An Alpha King.

I've been looking forward to meeting mine since I was young enough to recognize what those words meant. Most other wolves yearned for a mate or a pack, but not I -- not the Yvgenian Family.

We were raised for this, for the existence of one such person. Our bodies, our minds, Hell even our souls, are dedicated to an Alpha King all our own. A leader so powerful and wise that our forefathers bound us to them, promised them our eternal servitude.

An Alpha King is all I've ever looked forward to. I have strived since childhood to be the best for him. Of the Romanova Branch where I was trained, I'm the youngest captain, the largest wolf, the strongest, the most capable leader outside of the Main Branch. I was convinced that I could protect him, that when I was branded with the Alpha King's seal I would be the one he'd come to rely upon. Instead, I handed control of my body over to a child of twelve who didn't know how to properly wield it, and I had to feel his life be taken away.

I stare into my mirror, palms pressed to the cool porcelain edge of the sink and stare at the tender scar on my neck. My fingertips run along the puckered edge of the brand mark. If I weren't so eager to get this, would I have been able to save him?

I cup my fingers against it, cover it from my view, and sigh deeply. It's my fault. I should've held on tighter to the killer or noticed him sooner or done even half of the things I was trained to. Instead, I spoke with him. I let him touch me. And I watched him leave. I let him.

I've liberated you. His voice is a whisper right at my ear. My head tilts without thought, eyes slipping closed as pale green irises fill my mind.

He shouldn't exist. My soul is taken, sealed as the property of the Alpha King. The skin beneath my hand heats, tries to burn my palm away, an unspoken reminder that it's impossible. The Yvgenian Family does not have soulmates. We never have, and we never will. Such is the way.

I must have been confused, the death of my King making me feel things that weren't actually there. My eyes and arms were barely functioning as it was. My senses were wrong. Maybe if I'd been able to place what his scent was, I'd be sure of the fact that it was a momentary lapse on my part. That man is not my soulmate. I don't have one. I cannot.

You have to understand!

I jump, hands lifting defensively before I realize that the shout was in my head, that there's no way he's anywhere near here. I scrub my hands down my face and shake my head, hoping the motion will clear it of all traces of him. I don't want to remember his words or his touch. I just need his face. I'll describe it to my relatives, make sure their sketch is accurate, and bleach my mind clean of every last trace of him.

I clench my jaw as I make my way from the bathroom, bypassing the open door leading to my bedroom, and heading straight down the long hallway, my strides strong and sure. I will do this. I will tell them all I know. I will reveal his face, wash my hands clean of it, and leave it to the Main Branch to sort this through. It isn't the place of a mere captain to hunt down an Alpha King killer. One of my older relatives will handle it.

An image of black gloved hands coiling around that man's throat springs to my mind, those innocent eyes popping wide as someone I don't know "handles it."

My body jolts to a stop.

Groaning under my breath, I push my fingers through my hair and curse softly. "It's not your place," I remind myself, try to drill it through my skull by saying it aloud. Still, my stomach clenches tight at the startlingly clear picture of what my family could end up doing to him. "Jesus fuck," I groan, head pulsing madly with a bitter blend of emotions I can't even begin to unravel.