39

2.9K 87 5
                                    

Word Count: 2170

~Meara

Kyro smiles like nothing is amiss. "Hello again, old friend."

The world seems to still, everyone falling quiet. Some are clearly reeling, recognising Kyro from the history books. He once reigned over this Pack. Even I remember learning about him in school.

Sire sobers from his confusion quickly, his expression hardening.

"Friend...Friend?"

Kyro remains a couple feet away from the stage, like he anticipates a surge of Sire's power that could wipe him out in a second. People back away, leaving a sizable amount of space around him, not wanting to be caught in any cross-fire.

The fear printed across everyone's faces allows me to quickly determine each of Carran's witches that are responsible for whatever is going on. The skulk about the crowd, leering at their old Alpha as they await instruction.

"I see all those years underground did you no good." Kyro stretches out his arms, his smile wide and unencumbered.

Sire shakes his head in bewilderment. "How is this possible?"

He is confused as I am. According to our history books, Kyro reigned on for many years once Sire was gone. These books depicted him as a magnificent, strong leader who lived into old age.

Yet here he is, appearing a similar age to Sire.

Kryo begins to unbutton the top buttons of his wrinkled black shirt, revealing a gruesome scar. It's fresh, like it has just been stitched up.

"My bitch of a wife killed me. Or, tried." His smile fades a little. "Not long after I cursed you, too. I finally achieved my goal of merging our Pack's, of destroying insurgents, and then she tried to kill me."

Confusion ripples through the crowd. Yet another detail the history books lied to us about, painting a faux picture of a man people thought they could admire.

"It wasn't undeserved," Sire sneers.

He mentioned once that Kyro's wife sought refuge with him due to Kyro's abusive nature. She must have promptly got her revenge.

"No, I suppose not." Kyro leaves his shirt unbuttoned, letting every on looker gawk curiously. "Thankfully I assumed an assassination attempt was on my door, so I created a contingency plan."

Sire slides his hands into his pockets, dulling his visible anger. "With your witches, no doubt."

"They preserved my body. I figured my job was done and I could be laid to rest until it was time to come back and ensure I could end you once and for all." His smile grows with every word.

The spectacle of this whole speech is distracting me from my fear. Somehow, somewhere, I am aware that I am facing Sire's greatest enemy, but perhaps being in my mates presence so often has made me immune to powerful people.

"If you couldn't do it then, you definitely can't do it now," Sire taunts.

"Back then I didn't have what I needed to kill you, Sire." Kyro's eyes flash. "I didn't have the key."

"What key?"

Nausea knots in my stomach as Kyro's cool blue gaze pulls over to me. Horror crawls along my skin in shivers, knowing I've now become the focal point.

"Your mate," he breathes.

Sire looks over me, concern only briefly flitting through his gaze before he pulls over a mask of indifference. He can't manage to hide the obvious tension in his taut muscles though, his entire demeanour shifting knowing I'm Kyro's next target.

The Curse Of The AlphaWhere stories live. Discover now