“UGH!”
Bell was thrown over a balcony and flailed for two stories until he slammed into the concrete floor so hard it knocked the remaining air out of his lungs. His cane-sword was tossed several feet from his head as the rebels dropped down, landing easily on their feet and surrounding him. Bell inhaled sharply, curling in on himself before scrambling to his knees to take in what hole he’d been dropped into—the Center Hub. The tomb officials were all dead, their bodies piled up and rotting in a corner. Bell cursed these assholes, cursed them all at the sight of his maimed brothers. Some of them had beloveds and families.
Four or five vampires flashed towards him and rained down more devastating blows to his sternum and face. The bruises were healing, but not faster than they were landing them. Bell fought back as hard as he could, but the wounds weakened him. His hair was pulled viciously, yanking his neck back so far he thought that one of them was trying to take his head off. A vampire larger than any he’d ever seen, snarled and growled at Bell’s jugular, his sharp fangs dripping his wretched saliva onto his abused throat.
“Easy gentleman. Save some for the rest of us.” A vampire wearing a black turtleneck, faded black Levis and brown hiking boots strolled towards him, flanked by more vampires. “Well, well, well. What have my loyal and faithful soldiers brought to their leader?”
Bell zeroed in on the confident bastard coming towards him. His condescending words were said so smugly that it made Bell want to lurch for his blade and cut that offending tongue out.
“Are my eyes deceiving me?” The man smiled arrogantly.
“No sir, it’s really him. The others were about to bite him, but we stopped them when we noticed the hair. He stinks something awful, but this is him, yes?”
“Oh, it’s him.” The vampire stood close and motioned for the others to get Bell on his feet. It took a lot of them to hold his arms out while the brute kept a vice-like grip on ninety percent of his hair, and another had a thick bicep around his neck. “The beautiful Belleron Liatos. My Lord. Welcome. It’s truly an honor, Belleron. Your reputation precedes you. Gossips were not wrong about your handsome features.”
Bell hissed and struggled, wanting to yell his fury, but his windpipe was being crushed.
“The king must be beside himself.” The man grinned. “Good.”
“And you are?” Bell just managed to croak.
“I am Alessandro Giuliani. My brother served your king for many, many years… before the king’s so-called beloved—a shifter—killed him.”
Bell would’ve shook his head if he’d been able. He knew exactly who this was, or at least who the bastard was he was referring to. Erman Giuliani had been Wick’s captain of his personal court before he’d met Justice. It was believed Erman was secretly in love with Wick, so he’d foolishly challenged the Alpha Zenith for his true mate. Stupid. And he’d paid the price… with his life. But, that had been Wick’s order, not Justice’s.
“Now I’m doing what my brother tried to do before he was unjustly murdered. Trying to free our people and conquer an oppressive régime. Look at all who’ve followed me. Just like so many other great conquerors before me.” He motioned at the many vampires behind him. All of them brainwashed and confused.
Destroyer of the conquering people. Bell swallowed.
“You’re murderers. I’m going to show the world what the King has become. A traitor. And more will stand behind me.”
“By spreading lies,” Bell snapped at the real traitor of their people. The bicep tightened around his throat, making his vision blur.
“Lies? No. They’re all here on their own free will. The King is not interested in his kind anymore. The shifters are all that matter, now. We will not bow down to—”
Alessandro blinked, his glare flashing with disbelief, “I smell…”
“I know. He stinks worse than the ones from the tombs.” The brute spat. He seemed to be the one who wanted to bite Bell in the worst way, but didn’t know what to make of his scent.
“I thought… I actually didn’t know what the smell was.” Alessandro frowned and inched closer. “Hold him good. Belleron is fast and strong.”
Bell didn’t think they needed to restrain him any tighter, but a few more joined in to secure him. Bell wanted to do a lot more than touch that piece of shit. He knew his eyes were flashing with rage. He didn’t want Alessandro’s soiled hands anywhere on him. Bell squirmed when the rebel leader pressed the blunt tip of his nose to his throat and inhaled deeply. He pulled back with a startled, yet, disgusted look. Then he reached out and yanked Bell’s collar so hard that it tore apart, leaving his neck and the top half of his chest exposed.