[Webnovel ©Lynnifer Ice]
(Trigger Warning: This chapter contains content about violence and torture)
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Blood was splattered across Azariah's cheek, shirt, and jacket. As Azariah slowly cooled down, her bloodlust retreating, she stared down at her first lifeless body this mission. Her legs had partially straddled the beta's abdomen, but she could care less as long as she got the job done. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled the dagger out of his chest.
"If you can't burn the body… Separate the head from the body," she repeated what she had been taught to do after a kill.
She tightened her grip on the hilt in her left hand, raising her arm into the air; the blade pointed back, positioned perpendicular to her forearm. She steadied herself with her right hand spread out on Levi's chest. Without an ounce of empathy, she swung her left arm down toward his neck. Her blade halted right before it could pierce his skin.
She glanced up, looking around. Her instincts told her something or someone was coming. She quickly cleaned off her dagger on his clothing before sheathing it. She got up and rushed about the cabin until she found a kitchen area and plenty of knives. She chose one similar to the size of her dagger and ran back to the body. She aimed the knife blade at the hole her dagger had left before driving it down inside it. If someone was going to catch her at a murder scene, they could not see that she had used her own dagger, or they would know right away that she is an assassin.
She got up again; the gut feeling that something or someone was coming was not going away. She had to find something to behead the beta with… A hatchet would be preferable if she could not use her dagger, but she knew she did not have time to look for one. She rushed back to the kitchen, searching for a very sharp blade, but most of the knives she found were on the dull side. She groaned in aggravation. She was running out of time!
She decided to use the knife in his chest as it had looked decently sharp before. She ran back to the front room, looking around and deciding it did not look like enough of a struggle. She took out her dagger, ripped apart some furniture, and tore some curtains before putting it away again. Then she knocked over and threw some chairs. She broke the wooden coffee table and smashed a vase with flowers in it.
She was going to go back to the body to cut off his head when she sensed someone nearing the front door. She quickly messed up her hair bun and ducked over to a far corner from the door, but near the body. She scooted back until her back was against the wall, her legs spread out on the floor, her hands on either side of her hips with her palms pressed against the floor. A bead of sweat slid down her forehead; she began panting, pretending as if their fight had been a massive struggle for her.
That's when the front door slowly opened wide. A boot moved against the wooden floor, causing a board to creak. Azariah kept panting, painting a look of fear and desperation on her face. She at least knew her acting was decent. She heard a low, threatening growl as the uninvited guest took another step into the cabin. She would do her best to sell herself as the victim no matter who it was. Nobody but the dead beta could know she was an assassin.
"What the fuck," Alpha Fynn growled as he came into view, his eyes trained on the lifeless beta and the knife stuck in his chest. "Who…?" He breathed out before he heard Azariah panting. His eyes honed in on her quivering stature, just a few feet away against the wall, "YOU! You did this!" He pointed an accusing finger at her, "You will pay for this, boy!"
"He- He tried to touch me!" Azariah cried with trembling lips. "It was self-defense!"
"You expect me to believe that, Gamma Remy?! After the show you put on in the forest path, you expect me to believe this was self-defense?!" Alpha Fynn howled, stomping toward her, "I'm taking you to the head of the clan, boy. You can come along quietly, or I'll drag you there by your hair."
He grabbed the collar of Azariah's jacket, forcefully pulling her to her feet. He harshly shoved her out the door. While he could not see her face, she smirked, pleased with herself. This was her ticket to get to her target without having to sneak in. Could it backfire? Absolutely, but that was a risk she was willing to take. Alpha Fynn snarled behind her, delivering another harsh shove to her back. She hid her smile, allowing the werewolf to roughly shove her all the way to a very tall stone building. It looked larger than any mansion she had ever seen; it looked like it was significantly bigger than the guildhall, even.
Azariah inhaled deeply as two guards opened an iron gate that swung inward; it had to be at least sixty feet high, if not more. Alpha Fynn tightly gripped her right shoulder, pushing through the iron gates, and then barked at the guards. She was careful to keep a stone face; she could not risk showing any emotions at a time like this. She then took notice of two more guards standing at attention in front of what looked like a drawbridge. Surprisingly, it really was a drawbridge... Instead of a moat, like one would see back in the middle ages surrounding castles, a seemingly bottomless trench surrounded the stone structure; as they walked across the bridge once it was lowered, she took note that there was some kind of creepy mist at the bottom and just poking out the top were very sharp points, most likely spikes.
The hallways that she was guided down were like a maze; there were many twists and turns. Each werewolf that they passed gave her a dirty look. Azariah could not help but wonder if they already knew that she had killed Beta Leviathan. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a large mithril door. Alpha Fynn knocked twice before a much deeper voice answered from within the room; it sent shivers down Azariah's spine. What was that, that she felt; intimidation?
"Enter," the deep voice, most likely belonging to the head alpha, announced.
"Go," Alpha Fynn sneered as he opened the door just enough to be able to shove her inside the room.
Alpha Fynn shoved her so hard this time that she lost her footing. She was unable to catch herself in time and tripped on the floor. Her head spun around as she glared at Alpha Fynn, who promptly slammed the door shut. She bit her tongue before relaxing her facial features, letting out a slow breath to calm her anger.
"Get up, boy," the Alpha in the room ordered. Well, at least her disguise was still working.
Azariah pushed off the ground with her arms, standing back up before brushing the dirt off. Then she turned her head toward the direction of the voice. That is when she noticed the room was only lit with two candles, one on either side of an old-fashioned desk; the curtains were also closed. She arched an eyebrow before she finally found two eyes staring her down. Perhaps, she should not have looked directly into his eyes because, within seconds, the alpha was out of his seat and hovering over her. If looks could kill, Azariah would already be dead.
"If you are trying to challenge me, boy, I suggest you back down. You should know better than to look your leader in the eye," he growled dangerously close to her face. He took a quick sniff of her, confusion briefly flashing over his eyes.
Unfortunately, it was not in Azariah's personality to surrender. Thus, she maintained eye contact. This seemed to anger the alpha before he grabbed her by the neck; she noted he had a much firmer grip than Alpha Fynn. It actually hurt a bit to the point where it may leave bruises. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her in discomfort, so her face remained void of emotion.
"You have some nerve, Gamma. Do you have any idea who I am?" He seethed with a clenched jaw, directly in her face.
"Not a clue," Azariah barely managed to breathe out. The Alpha was surprised enough by her lack of reaction that he let go of her neck.
"You absolutely don't know?" He arched an eyebrow, searching her eyes as if they would tell him if she was lying or not.
"All I know is that I was told you were the head honcho around here. Other than that, I have no idea. So," Azariah sighed softly, moving her body just an inch closer to his, "Enlighten me, Sir."
Either the boy had a death wish or was possibly insane. Who in their right mind would challenge and half-seduce an alpha in the same breath? Alpha Arcadio was bewildered by the male gamma werewolf in front of him. He could not help but think that this male was way too bold. At the same time, he was mesmerized by the male's face, despite blood being splattered across his cheek.
"I am Arcadio Hrodwulf," Arcadio answered cautiously, choosing to not back up to make some distance between their bodies. Instead, he grabbed Azariah's chin, turning her face from side to side, inspecting for injuries and the blood on her. Eventually, he let go after staring for too long, "What's your name, Gamma?"
"Remy. Remy Camden," Azariah forced a small smile. She was most likely in this room for killing that beta, but here she was, already trying to seduce her target. It made her sick, having to be this close to him. She wanted to cut off his hand when he touched her chin, but she knew she could not act rashly. She had been warned what would happen if she acted too early.
"Well, Gamma Remy," Arcadio mused, finally putting a little distance between them. "Do you know why you're here?" He asked as he turned and strolled over to the window, grabbing a curtain as if ready to pull it back.
"If I had to guess," Azariah sighed, rolling her eyes, "I would say that I'm standing here because I killed a sleazy beta werewolf. Does that sound about right?"
"You really are bold, aren't you?" Arcadio's eye twitched as he pulled back one curtain, letting the first light of the dawn flow into the room. Although, it did not make it much brighter. It did, however, reveal a chair with a table next to it; on that table was a silver tray with multiple torturing devices and tools. Arcadio turned back around, expecting a reaction from the young-looking male, but Azariah's face was expressionless.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" Azariah dully asked, making eye contact again.
"Are you saying that it doesn't?" Irked, Arcadio stalked toward Azariah with his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped just in front of her.
"I suppose I am, Mister Hrodwulf," Azariah stood still, amused by his visual frustration.
"Well, you should be," Arcadio whispered into Azariah's ear. Still not getting a reaction other than the raise of an eyebrow, Arcadio huffed in annoyance. "How about I show you?" He rhetorically asked before grabbing her arm and roughly turning her around.
Azariah rolled her eyes, telling herself to just deal with it for now. Arcadio swiftly stripped her of her leather jacket, tossing it to the floor, but he froze when he harshly turned Azariah back toward him. There, just below each shoulder, was a gash in the dark long-sleeved shirt, and around that gash was newly dried blood. His eyes widened, bewildered when he saw the skin beneath wasn't torn but rather scarred. He grabbed Azariah's shoulders tightly.
"When did you obtain those wounds, Gamma?" Arcadio's eyes thinned.
"Just before sunset. Why?" Azariah boredly asked.
"The most recent sunset? A few hours ago?" Arcadio pressed, gripping her shoulders tightly. How was it that a gamma male could heal so quickly in such a short time frame?
"Is there an echo in the room?" Azariah mocked, not wanting to go into details. More than anything, she wanted his hands off of her.
"Answer me," Arcadio warned. What was so special about this gamma? This gamma was testing his patience. If it were any other werewolf, they would either already be dead or beaten to a pulp, but something was holding him back.
"Yes, it was a few hours ago," Azariah deadpanned, trying to shake off his hands, but he would not let go.
"What happened to your wounds?" Arcadio asked, growing suspicious. He took another whiff of the gamma, confused why he smelled almost artificial.
"They healed, obviously," Azariah rolled her eyes.
"They healed? Really, then," Arcadio huffed, grabbing one of her wrists and pulling it up, "Why are your hands still wounded? They have much more minor wounds than what you had before, by the looks of it." His patience was wearing thin; he forcefully dragged Azariah to the chair despite the slight struggle. He pushed the gamma down into the chair before grabbing the armrests, leaning in impossibly closer, sniffing her again. He pushed himself away from the chair, walking over to the door. He turned the lock before turning toward Azariah again.
"Who are you?" He snarled, gradually stalking toward her. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, "You don't smell like our kind."
"I am who I am, Alpha," she confidently stated, hoping he could not see through her disguise.
"What was that?" He froze, glaring at her, "I never told you I was the Alpha. Who sent you, boy?"
Her body tensed as her heart fell into her stomach. He got up in her face with a dangerous glint in his eyes. She stood her ground, refusing to show weakness, even when he lifted her off the chair by her shirt's collar. He growled, enraged by the stranger before him.
"Answer me if you want to live, boy."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Azariah bit her lip, angry that she slipped up.
"Lies," Arcadio seethed, harshly throwing her back in the chair before backhanding her.
"Bastard...," she muttered under her breath before spitting out the blood at his feet. Surprisingly, she still had her dagger attached to her hip, but nobody seemed to care about that.
"Disobedient," Arcadio started to list as he grabbed her by her hair bun, "Foul-mouthed," he pulled her to her feet, pushing her to the back of the chair. "Liar," he made her grab the back of the chair before he started tieing her wrists to the chair, "Murderer." He grabbed a whip off the side table before standing behind her, "Defiant."
Azariah dug her fingernails into the chair as she held her breath. Then, she felt the first crack of the whip against her backside. She clenched her jaw as the whip came down on her back again and again. Azariah wanted to yell, to scream, but she refused to give the alpha the satisfaction. Her lack of response only urged the alpha on. He kept whipping her back until it was covered in bloody slashes.
He was heaving, letting his arm relax at his side before he noticed ripped fabric on either side of her gashed back. He stepped closer to the gamma's trembling and delicate figure. His fingers brushed over the torn fabric. His curiosity was piqued as he grabbed the fabric, pulling back on it, only to reveal a stretchy strand of material bloodied at the end. He reached over her shoulders so that the fabric was dangling in her face.
"What is this?" Arcadio demanded to know.
"My...," Azariah took in a deep breath, trying to focus, "My binder."
"A binder?" Arcadio repeated, dropping the fabric on the seat of the chair. He walked around to the front of the chair, raising her chin with the hilt of the whip. He was satisfied when he saw tears in the gamma's eyes. "What do you need a binder for?"
"I'm transgender," Azariah lied, looking off to the side, "I used it to conceal my breasts."
"You...," Arcadio paused, letting go of her chin. "You're a transgender werewolf? Does anyone else know about this?"
Azariah shook her head slowly in reply. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She might have just blown the entire operation. The alpha was onto her. How long would it be before he realized she was a human? Arcadio turned away from her, tossing the whip to the ground. It clacked loudly as it hit the floor. Why did he feel so angry knowing this information? He gripped the edge of his desk with both hands, staring at one of the lit candles.
"Tell no one. I must be the only one to know this information," Arcadio crossed the room, closing the curtains again before coming to stand before the gamma again. "Do you understand, Gamma? You cannot tell anyone else about this," he sat in the seat, facing Azariah, his legs on either side. He crossed his arms, eyeing the gamma up and down, "We have another mystery to solve now. How did your previous wounds recover so quickly when none of your new wounds show any progress of healing yet? One more thing...," he grabbed Azariah's chin between his thumb and forefinger, " Don't try lying to me again."
"I regret to inform you, Alpha, that I cannot share that information with you. They'd have my head if I told anyone," Azariah told her white lie with the faintest trace of a smile.
Arcadio's eyes darkened to a black glow. He growled, baring his sharp canines. He let go of Azariah's chin before he snarled at her, "Then, I guess you'll be here for a while because you aren't leaving this room until you tell me."
- End of Chapter Nine -