RAGNAR
Another day goes by.
There’s not much time left before the banquet, and I barely recognize myself. My body’s tight like a drawn wire.
Since this morning, I’ve been mowing, trimming hedges, and scrubbing around the pool as part of my usual duties.
Roberto said everything has to look perfect, so I’m working hard.
But my thoughts are scattered like flocks of wild birds.
I’ve started doing stupid things. Unforgivable things. Things that could cost people dearly.
The eternal question: be a decent man, or a man on a mission, blinders on?
Earlier today, I got a call from my parents. I had to take it, I couldn’t stall any longer.
The first thing my dad said was, "Any progress? Did you see Summer?"
Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I mumbled, "No. But there are some new developments…"
"Oh?" I could hear the excitement and hope in his voice, and it made me feel even guiltier.
"Nothing major. There’s a new guy in The Sun, the capo’s lover. Very young and pretty. I’ve been hoping I could casually talk to him and maybe get some intel…"
"Ferro has a new lover parading around, and Summer’s nowhere to be found?! That could mean this bastard killed him!"
"Stop, Dad. I know that."
Of course, I didn’t make a fool of myself by admitting I’ve got the hots for the guy who might’ve replaced my own poor brother… No one would comprehend that level of stupidity.
"Listen," I said, clearing my throat. "There’s a banquet in two days. I haven’t been able to get into those events before, but now I’m planning to sneak in somehow…"
Dad inhales sharply. "A gardener on a banquet? Ragnar, please be careful. These people are cold-blooded killers."
"I’ll try my best, Dad."
"Time is of the essence, Ragnar. If Ferro has a new boy—"
"I know, Dad! Geez, I know!"
He spent the next ten minutes warning me and rushing me at the same time. And that’s exactly how our conversations always go. I can only imagine how upset they’d be if they knew what I’ve actually been doing instead of rescuing the people I love more than life.
I’m a soldier who’s gone astray.
Unable to focus on my mission, struggling with my confused mind.
Throughout the day, pushing thoughts of Sun out of my head became a full-time job. Still, the moment that bastard approached him…
That fake bratty attitude of Sun is just a mask. He’s a kid bluffing his way through fear.
Damn it. Somehow, I just feel him, sense his desperation.
Why him? Why is he the only one in this entire mansion full of people I’m supposed to ignore, but he’s the one who refuses to disappear from my head?
Wrestling with my conscience, I spend the day circling the garden, constantly finding excuses to be outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sun. His huge green eyes are burned into my mind, looking at me with hope, asking for just a bit of normal.
He’s repeated it several times, like it’s the most important thing in the world. Like it’s his lifeline. I want to give it to him. But I’ve already listed every single reason why I shouldn’t. That list is long.
I see him a few times throughout the day. On the patio once, playing the harp. I keep my distance, only stealing glances at him from afar. And I catch him looking back at me more than once.
Finally, my shift is over, and I head to the storage room to drop off my tools. Then I remember I haven’t cleared the rose vines from the gazebo. That job’s still waiting for me.
So I grab the toolbox and head back into the garden.
But just as I’m leaving the shed, I notice something odd. The guard booth overlooking the inner garden is empty. Old Bonzo usually sits there playing solitaire on his tablet.
I walk back into the garden, a strange sense of unease settling over me. Even from far away, I can hear what’s happening at the center. I slow down, step into the bushes.
I listen.
And then I freeze. What I hear chills me to the bone.
Vito, Massimo, and Franco are by the gazebo, hidden behind a thick cluster of shrubs. And they’re talking to Sun.
What the fuck are those bastards doing?
My pulse spikes. I instantly feel the plates of my internal armor shifting beneath my skin, sliding through the lines on my ribs and pushing outward to shield my torso. The adrenaline hits so hard it lets the armor move painlessly.
I catch the end of Vito’s sentence:
"…did I get it wrong?"
Sun snaps back, his voice proving everything I’ve already figured out about him. He sounds defiant, arrogant even, but underneath that? Fear.
"What the fuck are you talking about?! I talked to the guy once, about spider mites. I don’t know him. Maybe he thought he should step in because you were being a dick…"
Suddenly, I hear a smack, skin against skin, followed by a struggle. I clench my fists.
"Get off me, you fucking asshole!" Sun yells.
I shut my eyes. I need to assess the situation, costs and gains, risks and chances, just like I used to do in the military. But I don’t have the time. I already know that if I go in there now, it’s over.
My mission will be a failure.
I won’t save Summer. I won’t find out what happened to Moon. I’ve fucked up. Why, Fate…? My poor brothers, forgive me.
"Let go, that hurts, stop…" Another slap.
I can’t. I can’t just stand here and do nothing.
Yeah, I’m a monster. But not like them.
I kill monsters like them.
I hear fabric rip.
The metal-bone plates of my internal armor are already set in place, protecting my chest and stomach. I move.
I hear Sun’s panicked cry, and fury blinds me, then… I feel my gums ache. Something presses there. A new sensation floods my awareness. My mating fangs… why the hell are they trying to emerge? That’s not part of a normal shift into imago . And now my fingertips are itching too. What the fuck?
But there’s no time to make theories about what’s happening to my body. I break through the bushes and freeze for a second as the scene in front of me slams into my senses like a dive-bombing falcon.
Massimo and Franco are holding Sun by the arms, and Vito, who’s just ripped open his thin green shirt, is reaching for his pants, fingers curled around the waistband. Sun kicks and struggles, but he’s one against three.
These aren’t street thugs. They’re all made men. Trained. They don’t hesitate when they sense a threat.
So the second I step out of the brush, all three alphas draw their weapons at the exact same time, aiming straight at me.
But stopping isn’t an option, not with mafia guys. That would’ve ended exactly the same way anyway. They don’t have a ‘pause and talk’ setting. So I keep going.
Sun’s the first to understand what’s about to happen. He cries out, "No!" and slams his shoulder into Massimo, trying to knock the gun from his hand.
Massimo grabs him by the hair and yanks him back, tossing him out of the way.
Franco and Vito don’t hesitate.
Bang. Bang.
Two shots are fired. Both hit my left side. Good aim, but they can’t pierce my armor.
Purple alpha bodies aren’t built like normal humans. Our bones are thicker, and our plating is made from a mineral-carbide composite. Its layered structure absorbs impact, and the elastic protein weave prevents fractures.
The ballistic force doesn’t even make me flinch. You’d need a bazooka to knock me off balance, since I weigh 770 pounds.
I see the shock hit their faces when they realize the bullets didn’t work. But it doesn’t last long. Their caporegime is Luca, a purple alpha too, so they’ve seen this before. They immediately try again, aiming another burst at my neck and head, knowing those areas are more vulnerable.
Too late. I leap, crossing the last few feet in a second. Vito’s closest, so I hit him first, full force. But I have to be careful not to crush Sun in the process. I twist midair, shift the angle, and drive us both left, away from Sun, Massimo, and Franco.
They use that moment to fire two more shots. One hits the side of my head, the other my shoulder. No real damage, but the close-range headshot rattles me. It shakes my inner ear, stuns me for a couple of seconds.
It’s obvious Luca did a good job training the soldati . They understand that center mass won’t cut it, so they go for my temple, anticipating it might slow me down.
Using the moment, Massimo and Franco grab my arms, pulling me back.
It’s not easy to lift me, but they seem to know what to do with purple alpha weight.
They dig their feet into the ground and tilt their bodies back, creating leverage.
For a few seconds, they manage to wrestle me off Vito.
I’m still dazed, just long enough for them to interrupt my charge.
I have this surge of silly annoyance then, aimed at Luca.
He actually showed them how to subdue a purple alpha.
It’s weirdly disappointing, like he’s betraying our kind.
There are only two of us for every hundred standard alphas.
But many of us work in protection. So I guess it makes sense, he had to prepare them for encounters with enemy purple alphas.
They jerk me hard, groaning with effort, then haul me backward. I lose contact with Vito.
"You son of a bitch," Vito yells. "Let’s see you take a bullet to the eye!"
He raises his gun. But right then Sun lunges at him, trying to tackle him.
I blink in shock. That kid’s got guts! Vito sees him too late, but still swings the butt of his pistol at him.
The hit’s off-center because Sun twists, but the edge still catches him. It stuns the boy enough to send him collapsing to the ground.
That sight fuels me even more.
His attack gives me just enough time to snap out of the fog.
I have to break their hold. I’ve only got one option: I unleash my spikes.
Whipping my arms outward, I flex my muscles. I jerk both of them up.
There’s a sickening crunch.