Savage (Alpha Brotherhood 1)

“Keep Thranar entertained until I return,” I said with a wink, and Aric grinned knowingly.

“Would you expect any less?” he replied, and I returned his smile.

I flicked the reins and my horse burst into a strong and steady gallop down the street. The hooves of those following me pounded into the rock not far behind me. On foot, it would have taken close to an hour to reach the edges of the city, but on horseback, it would take maybe fifteen minutes. The wind rushed through my hair, whipping it wildly behind me as we rushed back toward the gate. As promised, there were several Valgerthian men waiting for me. Swiftly, I dismounted my horse and approached them. One of them quickly brought me to the entrance of the tunnel.

Hidden just outside the rubble of the remains of the city wall was a decrepit stone staircase that seemingly led into darkness. I was handed a burning torch. It appeared that the entrance had only been revealed as a result of the destruction of the barricade that had once protected the city.

“I sent a man ahead to assess the path, and it runs clear straight to the castle, my queen. It’s dark and a few sections have started to deteriorate, but it leads all the way through,” one of the men said and I nodded in understanding. I recognized him as a man who went by the name Ludin.

“Thank you, Ludin. I appreciate that,” I replied. He bowed his head and I turned away as I descended into the old tunnel without delay. Boots struck against the stones behind me and I took off into the darkness.

The tunnel was fairly direct. Occasionally there was another hallway that led off to the right or left, but the main one was still pretty intact. Ludin had been right to warn me though. In certain areas, the walls had begun to collapse under the weight of the rocky soil above it. I heard water dripping in other places, each drop echoing noisily as we passed through the darkness with only the light from the torch. I moved as quickly as possible, knowing Aric and our combined forces were already meeting the thousands of those waiting for us in battle not far away.

It took some time, but when we finally approached the end of the tunnel, I signaled for silence from those escorting me. I ensured that my steps were light against the rock beneath my feet. It was important that we not give away our position. A fight down here would be dangerous for all of us.

There was a decaying wooden door at the end of the tunnel, clearly breaking down from the semblance of time and rot. Carefully, I pressed my ear against the damp wood and listened for a few minutes. When I was sure that no one was on the other side of door, I slid my axe out of its position on my back.

I swung with all my strength and the wood splintered on my blade. It took a few swings, but the door eventually crumbled enough for all of us to climb through. I put my axe back into place and was the first to make my way into what looked like a long-forgotten room in the depths of Thranar’s castle. Quietly, we made our way through the dusty, cobweb-ridden room and then another hallway until we found a staircase that led up into the massive structure. We climbed up until a locked door blocked our approach. It was reinforced steel, so I couldn’t take it down with my axe.

A shield maiden who went by the name Flicka moved to my side. I watched as she dug into a pouch on her belt. She pulled out a few long pins, knelt before the door, and carefully worked them into the keyhole. She picked that lock in a manner of minutes. The door creaked as it opened, likely from being sealed shut for so many years. When all was quiet, we remained at the door for several long minutes, waiting to see if anyone would come by and no one did. I ascended the stairs slowly at first, preparing myself for a fight at any moment, but no one came for us. It appeared Thranar had sent everyone to guard the castle gates, leaving much of the inside of the castle entirely unprotected.

We moved on in silence, all of us taking care to move as stealthily as possible. Then, just when we reached the top of the stairs, I thought that I heard the sound of someone crying. My ears perked and I came to a complete stop, trying to understand what I was hearing. I lifted my hand and indicated to my warriors to halt beside me.

The crying was real. It wasn’t far away either. I moved in the direction of the quiet sobs and crept along the stone hallway, closer and closer until I knew the person was right around the corner. I peeked around the wall and saw a small blonde woman chained to the wall. I couldn’t see her face. She was slumped over, arms bound straight out to either side of her. The chains were incredibly heavy, old, and rusted. The poor thing was covered in a thin brown cotton dress, but the fabric was ragged and torn in places, revealing bare skin underneath. I

t was stained with dirt and in some spots, with what appeared to be blood. Her wrists were bruised and bloodied from the handcuffs and her arms were bruised from what looked like remainders of cruel fingers digging into her flesh. Some of them appeared fresh while several others appeared to be much older. All of it spoke to regular abuse.

Her shoulders shook with her cries. I quietly crept into the room with her and cleared my throat. She stiffened, hastily lifting her head with fear. Tears dripped down her cheeks, leaving lines in the soot that stained her face. Her terrified eyes bored into mine and I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to help her or leave her be.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered. She appraised me in silence. The closer I moved toward her, the more clearly defined the evidence of her abuse became. Her right eye was black, and her cheek appeared to be bruised. I wondered if she was one of the working girls of the castle, perhaps a maid or a kitchen servant or even a concubine. My eyes dropped to her bare legs, noting that there were bruises on her thighs too.

I moved closer to her and inhaled the air around her. As an alpha female, I could sometimes tell based on a person’s scent if they were an alpha, a beta, or even an omega. I breathed in deeply and was met with the distinct aroma of an omega, sweet and seductive. She had the smaller stature typical of an omega, standing at maybe five foot tall and very slender.

“Who did this to you?” I asked softly.

“He’ll kill you,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fear. I furrowed my brow in confusion.

“Who?” I pressed.

“The king,” she whimpered, eyes darting around like a feral animal.

“What’s your name?” I asked carefully.

“Luna,” she answered softly.

I stared at her as it dawned on me. She was Thranar’s omega.

Slowly, I reached for her and the moment I touched her shoulder, she flinched. I turned her head and looked for his mark on either side of her neck, finding none. Odd. From the rumors I’d heard, he’d had his hands on his omega for some time. I had no idea why he wouldn’t have marked her, unless he’d been planning to try to make me his since he’d taken her.

“Are you bonded to him, Luna? Has he marked you as his?” I asked carefully. Maybe he’d bitten her in a place I couldn’t see, maybe on her thigh or her belly. That wasn’t typical though. Most alphas wanted to display their mark as a very public brand that an omega was claimed.

I didn’t want to leave her here. I wanted to protect her.

Depending on her answer, I had a decision to make. If she didn’t bear his mark, I was going to take her with me. If she was bonded to him, though, I would have to leave her, no matter how much it tore at my heart. Even away from his abusive hands, the pain from the bond would be far crueler. It would probably tear her apart before long. Death would be a much kinder fate than a broken pair bond.

“No. I’m not bonded to him,” she whimpered, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods,” I whispered.