The screams and burning fire was a bit satisfying as I watched the little village burn down. I sat still on my seat, watching one of my warriors gather up the women. Pathetic little things. So vulnerable, it pissed me off.
How pathetic was their Alpha who was being dragged towards me by my lead warrior, Drogo, his limbs tied up in ropes. He was just as weak as the rest of his pack. Those who dared to go wolfing on me was killed on the spot.
The fears I instilled on people filled me up all the time, it drove me crazy. Power is a sweet thing. Power was all one needed to concur the world, to concur territories and take over it, to take whatever you want. Power was what these peasants called Alphas didn't have and didn't even care to have, putting their subjects into harm's way and getting killed themselves.
Drogo stops in front of me, dragging the called Alpha to his knees in front of me.
