Sold to the Alpha [COMPLETED]

23

23

A creak from a door towards the back of the hall near the stage made me jump and get into a defence stance. Out the door and back on to the stage walked the remaining members of the council. They stared down at my brother's dead body and then back up at me.

"We are your humble servants, Goddess Selene." They all said as they fell to one knee and bowed. They stayed in that position, not moving an inch, until I told them to stand.

"I need a robe." I instructed them and at once, the man on the far end rushed back through the door they had entered through and returned with a floor length black robe like the one he was wearing and held it out to me, his eyes never leaving the floor. I took the robe from him, saying a quick 'thanks' and threw it on, covering up my naked body that was still healing.

"Take my brother's body and burn it. I do not want any remains left."

"Yes, my Goddess." The middle man of the three on stage said as he came over to my brother's dead body and, with the help of the man who had handed me my robe, they lifted my brother's body off the floor and carried it out the door they had entered, which finally closed behind them.

"I take it you were all just 'yes' men for my brother. Give the illusion of a chance to the people who came for help, but if my brother said yes or no, you all had to back him." The two men left just nodded to my statement. I sighed; I knew my brother too well. He couldn't become supreme ruler outright, he had to make it seem that people had a chance, a say, but really, he was running the show. A group was harder to overthrow than one man. "Did any of you keep records of what my brother has been up to as Head of the Werewolf Council?" I asked and the man on the left's face lit up like I had professed my love to him.

"Oh yes, your serenest, I was the scribe and tasked with writing down, what Master Sebastian called, his chronicles." The man said in a squeaky sort of voice. These were defiantly the type of men my brother preferred; weaker, easily pliable and scared of anyone bigger than them.

"Good, I'll need to read all of these chronicles." My lip curled slightly at the use of the word. It would be just like my brother to want books of his so-called triumphs and tribulations. "Where is my mate?" I asked and the man on the right clicked his fingers, which sounded like the crack of a whip in the huge, empty ballroom and from behind me opened the double doors that I had entered through.

Two guards pushed the doors open, their hands gripping the door handles as they did and barging past them, his face filled with worry, anger and a bit singed from me throwing him out the door, came Tomas. His clothes were singed in areas as well and his hair dishevelled like he had been running his fingers through it frantically. He came bounding over to me, completing the long ballroom in a few frantic steps before collecting me into his arms and bear hugging me to him. I could feel his fear radiate off of him and his anger.

He placed me back down on my feet slowly, kept his hands on my arms and I watched as his eyes roamed over me quickly, checking me over to see how I was. His eyes narrowed and blackened a bit every time he saw a blood stain, new skin or still healing bruises. His grip also tightened ever so slightly when he saw a particularly big wound.

"Are you ok?" He asked, breathing a bit heavier than usual like he was trying to reign in his temper.

"Yes, I'm fine and healing well."

"And your brother?" His voice going just an octave deeper in anger.

"Dead." I said flatly, no emotion laced in those words.

"Good, don't you ever throw me out of a fight again. You're my mate, we stand together."

"I know, but this was my brother, my past and my issue to deal with...finally. I couldn't let him get to you again."