His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"A heart filled with anger has no room for love." - Joan Lunden
•
"Before we begin, I will say this once and only once."
Christian sits alone on one of the couches in GHQ's General's Lounge, one leg crossed on top of the other. With his fingers intertwined, face stoic and commanding, he does well in keeping nine of the ten present Generals in check. Alek and Nikolai's remains are buried six feet underground, torn apart by nine of the Generals in their primal form. The only fitting punishment for an unworthy General is death itself, and they were granted such a release.
Christian did consider letting Valen have his way with them, but he knew their screams would've deeply disturbed the Untitled. So he gave the pair to the others, knowing their demise would last only seconds rather than hours.
"What is said in this room, stays in this room."
Each of the standing Generals nods, aware of the confidentiality they must upkeep during meetings with their Gamma. They stand in a line in front of him, arms crossed and eyes focused.
Valen stands a distance away from them, his presence causing notable strain on the occupants in the room. He's trying to obey his Gamma's command of releasing twenty percent of his presence, but they can barely handle ten.
"If any one of you breaks this rule, you will have no tongue to beg for forgiveness. Understood?"
Collectively, the Generals respond. "Understood, Gamma."
Grunting in approval, Christian stands and moves towards the tables at the back of the room. Without speaking, he pulls them away from the wall with ease and pushes them together, creating a large rectangular table. "Come," he says. The Generals quickly move to surround the table, with Valen appearing on his left, and Mikhail on his right.
Valen spares a glance at Mikhail, who keeps his eyes glued to the table. The male's parents were the couple who helped him when he first came onto these lands. For a time, he lived with the three of them, and for a time, Mikhail considered him as an older brother. Clenching his jaw, Valen tears his eyes away. He hasn't seen them in six years. A deep part of him wants to crawl out and apologise to the boy, to his family, for walking out and never returning. But he can't bear to see them. Not when their faces remind him of his life before Rosìa.
Pulling out a piece of dark blue fabric from his pocket, Christian places it onto the centre of the table, and many of the Generals lean closer to analyse the symbol embroidered onto it. "Over a month ago, a group of armed men entered our borders to try and kill some of my Untitled — my wolves," he grits, his composed demeanour faltering. "They wanted to kill your friends, your families, your mates. All so that they could find me, and interrogate me!"
