Wraths Vengeance

|Chapter Twenty-Four|

Constantinople, 1261

The sun had set over the byzantine empire, eight year old Elias watch his mother close the door where another raid had washed the city with blood. The home was small, but Valyla knew it kept her son well fed. Leaving her home was the best decision she had ever made. A war was brewing and she knew it was the smartest choice she made.

"I want to play mama" the child did not see the risk of going outside.

"You must stay inside, do not leave" her ordered tone didn't go unnoticed by the child.

"Sorry mama" her heart melted at her sweet child.

Her nerves were not settled when she began to pull the curtain aside the sight was horrid, dead bodies littered the streets. Fire rages in homes, loud screams. Loud screams and shouts were heard from the townsfolk. Valyla then saw men advancing towards the house.

The door was kicked down with ease, Valyla grabbed Elias and whipped him behind her causing the child to worry. Three men held her downing foot was on her back and two others held her arms.

"We know who you are" one whispered with her homelands accent.

"You think we wouldn't of found you?" another man laughed.

"Leave her alone!" the child yells holding a candlestick as a weapon.

The three men laughed and backhanded the child with ease, a red mark showed as the child stood up once again ready to fight for his mother. Another slap and the child stayed down this time.

"Tell us where Ivan is and we will pretend we didn't find you and that child of yours" a man compromised he hand lightly caressed her face. She spat in his face.

"I have no idea where Ivan is and I tried finding him, it's his son after all"

"You birthed the Alpha's son?"

"I'm not his destiny" she supplied.

Valyla wanted nothing more than to get out there and save her son but her past was here hurting her for information.

"I told you everything you needed to know"

"She's right" one of the men said.

"But dead people can't talk"

"Elias run!" she screamed.

The child eyes widen, but he watched the one man pull out a dagger, an family incrusted one with gold and rubies but it was too late when he ran to her. A bright red even cut across her throat. A choked cry came from the child as his mother fell dead with a pool of blood.

"Listen to your mother boy" just the one man was left.

"Don't come back, you hear?" his gruff voice tells him.

The child weeps and hold his mother tight. He looks up and sees that the man is gone, the eight year old grabs a small sac with food and clothes, he sits by his mother and kisses her forehead traumatized and filled with tears he walks into the chaos on the streets.