Chapter 4 – KNIGHT
KNIGHT
Moon is gone.
but not like last time.
know where she is.
could find her if wanted to.
but she asked for space.
understand.
hate it, but understand.
must do as she asks.
sitting.
still.
on floor.
watching door where Moon disappeared.
remembering pain on her perfect face.
remembering moonlight spilled from eyes.
because of him.
Azarel.
Azarel must die.
slowly.
painfully.
pull his spine through throat.
give intestines to Moon as trophy.
she can wear them as a necklace.
we will scatter pieces across wasteland for carrion birds.
deserves worse.
before, could accept his existence.
Moon chose other alpha before.
mate.
would protect.
would guard.
would watch from distance.
now?
different.
now he is unworthy.
not like me.
not because he was born a monster.
he chose it.
don't understand how, but understand tears.
understand pain.
unforgivable.
so I wait here.
floor is solid.
not like wood and cloth that creaks and snaps under weight.
bed too small.
chairs too pointy.
meant for humans.
not monsters.
furniture is useless.
altar—piano—was strong but now broken.
we broke it.
memory makes warm flutters in chest.
like small birds trying to escape.
her eyes.
her smile.
her body beneath mine.
wood breaking, crunching.
her laughter after.
beautiful.
perfect.
mine.
no… not mine.
hers.
Moon belongs to Moon.
not Azarel.
not me.
not anyone.
must remember.
moon is not possession.
moon is goddess over all.
worthy of worship.
worthy of service.
worthy of protection.
but she is gone now.
asked to be alone.
so I sit.
and wait.
wait for her return.
for her command.
for chance to serve again.
other alphas move through stone den.
loud alpha with yellow hair.
growling alpha with missing eye.
sick alpha with white hair.
all want Moon.
none deserve Moon.
but not for me to decide.
only Moon decides.
if she chooses them, will protect them too.
if they hurt her, will tear them apart.
simple.
clear.
purpose.
the door opens again.
not Moon.
disappointment is sharp pain in chest.
yellow-hair alpha enters.
Raven.
walks past doorway but stops.
takes two steps back.
sees me.
head tilts like confused animal.
"Oh! Knight... I didn't see you there."
stare at him.
why talk to me?
people do not talk to me.
people scream.
people run.
people die.
not talk.
only her.
"Where's Cosima?"
stare more.
he thinks I can talk?
he looks around room.
eyes dart back to me.
"Right... still out, I see."
his scent is strange for alpha.
sweet.
like honey.
does not smell as bad as most alphas.
he pauses.
stares at me now.
"Are you sitting on the floor because you're too big for the furniture?"
question doesn't need answer.
truth is obvious.
stare back.
he shifts weight from one foot to other.
uncomfortable.
good.
should be.
"I mean, I don't blame you. Geo's taste in furniture is abysmal. All that leather and wood. Very outdated. Very old world."
he talks too much.
do not care about words.
do not understand some of these.
only Moon's.
sometimes do not understand hers either.
but they are music.
understand her tone.
her song.
"You know, I could probably find something more... appropriately sized for you. Would you like that? Assuming you and our goddess will be here for a while."
why still talking to me?
strange alpha.
different alpha.
look closer at yellow-hair alpha.
see something familiar in his eyes when he speaks of Moon.
worship.
he worships Moon too.
calls her goddess.
different kind of worship maybe.
but same hunger.
same need.
same devotion.
Moon seems to like this alpha.
speaks to him without fear.
lets him close.
trusts him.
so... he is off-limits.
cannot kill.
yet.
unless he hurts Moon.
then will kill slowly.
will snap bones like twigs.
will enjoy it.
might taste better than other alphas.
might taste like sun meat.
"I'll be right back," yellow-hair says.
he disappears.
door closes.
alone again.
don't care.
just want Moon.
but Moon said stay.
so stay.
must obey.
must prove worthy.
better than "prince" who hurt her.
what is a prince?
a man that wants to be a god.
but what else?
must be monster.
must be evil.
time passes.
hard to measure.
underground den has no sky.
no stars.
no false moon.
hate it here.
too confined.
too crowded.
too many alphas.
too many enemies.
too many threats.
but Moon is here.
so here is where I stay.
door opens.
not yellow-hair.
not Moon.
strange beta.
stinks of metal and oil.
looks at me.
freezes.
fear-scent fills room.
prey recognizes predator.
eyes wide.
heart racing.
can hear it from here.
could cross room before he screams.
could tear throat out before blood hits floor.
but Moon would be upset.
so I stay.
stranger backs out.
door closes.
more time passes.
bored.
restless.
hungry.
want to hunt.
want to kill.
want Moon.
door opens again.
yellow-hair returns.
not alone.
three alphas follow.
strangers.
threats?
muscles tense.
ready to spring.
ready to kill.
but they carry something.
large.
metal.
heavy.
"Easy there, big guy," yellow-hair says. "No snacking. It's just a chair. For you."
for... me?
no one gives monster gifts.
only Moon.
gift of self.
of mask.
of strange clothes.
I am confused.
yellow-hair directs other alphas.
struggling getting giant metal chair through doorway.
keep looking at me.
gulping.
door is too small.
have to turn it sideways.
much effort.
much sweat.
weak alphas.
could help.
could break wall instead.
easier.
but Moon would be upset.
so I watch.
finally, chair enters room.
alpha carriers set it down.
heavy thud on floor.
stone den vibrates.
sick alpha appears.
standing in hallway, scratching white hair.
wearing strange clothes.
purple clothes.
too small.
shows skin.
pants of snake's skin.
too tight.
looks ridiculous.
"What the hell is going on?" sick alpha demands.
voice still rough from fever.
throat probably hurts.
good.
hope it hurts more.
he makes Moon angry.
not angry enough to kill.
I think.
yellow-hair looks at chair.
looks at sick alpha.
silent.
"Is that a fucking throne?" sick alpha asks.
yellow-hair looks again.
"Yes, I believe it is. I've seen it before in that pile of junk Geo keeps in his storage. But it's the only thing in the market big enough to support our giant… um… feral friend."
friend?
not friends.
never friends.
sick alpha looks concerned.
"Where the fuck is Cosima? She's the only one keeping him in line."
yellow-hair waves hand.
"She just needs space right now. I have people keeping an eye out for her."
people watching Moon?
who?
where?
do they touch her?
hurt her?
must find.
must protect.
start to rise.
"She's perfectly safe," yellow-hair adds quickly. "Just wandering the tunnels. Thinking. Everyone down here knows they can't look at her the wrong way without answering to me or Geo."
answer to me.
settle back down.
watch.
wait.
yellow-hair dismisses carrier alphas.
they leave quickly.
glad to escape.
wise.
yellow-hair turns to me.
he smiles.
honey tinged with fear.
"Go ahead and give it a try."
stare at throne.
metal.
cold.
ugly.
like my arm.
like my claws.
like me.
growl at throne.
"That thing is going to eat us," sick alpha mutters.
growl at sick alpha.
would eat him first.
but might catch what makes him sick.
Moon would not like that.
"Just try it. Please?" yellow-hair says.
voice soft and sweet.
like talking to wounded animal.
like talking to...
like Moon talks to me.
not same.
but similar.
don't like alphas.
don't trust alphas.
but yellow-hair has Moon's trust.
and don't want to cause Moon trouble.
so.
reluctantly rise.
floor creaks beneath weight.
move to throne.
study it.
designs carved in arms.
symbols I cannot understand.
but size is right.
slowly sit.
metal groans but holds.
doesn't break.
first furniture that fits.
strange feeling.
almost... comfortable?
yellow-hair claps hands together.
he is pleased.
"See? Perfect fit! Maybe we can get a few giant throw pillows made. How do you feel about velvet?"
pillows?
soft things for sleeping?
for throne?
weird alpha.
and what is velvet?
"Great. A monster on a throne. Now I've seen it all," sick alpha mutters.
want to kill sick alpha.
would be easy.
one swipe of claws across throat.
watch light fade from eyes.
watch blood pool on floor.
but Moon likes this den.
would be upset if bloody.
so sick alpha lives.
for now.
"We'll table the velvet for now," yellow-hair says, hand waving.
footsteps approach.
heavy.
angry.
one-eye alpha appears.
Geo.
den-master.
smells of earth and metal.
strong alpha.
dangerous alpha.
but not challenge.
not threat.
unless I hurt yellow-haired alpha.
that much is clear.
"What the hell did you do to my living room?" Geo bellows.
voice loud.
echoes off walls.
but no bark.
just noise.
like big dog.
yellow-hair smiles.
moves closer.
no fear.
"It's just a little furniture, Daddy. It's not like you already had a theme going."
one-eye alpha growls.
empty sound.
"Theme? The theme is 'my stuff in my house where I fucking want it.'"
yellow-hair touches other alpha's arm.
same way Moon touches mine.
bigger alpha relaxes.
strange.
alphas don't touch unless fighting.
unless...
oh.
understand now.
yellow-hair belongs to him.
yellow-hair is one-eyed's sun.
just like Moon is my moon.
good.
they can distract each other from her.
Geo finally notices sick alpha's strange clothes.
stares.
lips twitch.
then laughs.
loud.
hard.
sick alpha's face changes color.
red.
angry.
"Fuck you," sick alpha snarls. "Your boy toy thought it would be fucking hilarious to leave me nothing but this shit to wear."
yellow-hair shrugs. "I left what I thought would complement your coloring. The purple really brings out your eyes."
sick alpha steps toward yellow-hair.
"I'll bring out your fucking eyes, you little—"
growl tears through room.
no. two growls.
one-eyed alpha's, and mine.
one-eyed alpha looks at me, confused.
not for yellow-hair.
for Moon.
yellow-hair belongs to her.
warning.
sick alpha stops.
smart.
one-eyed alpha steps between them.
"You aren't taking anybody else's fucking eyes," Geo snarls at him, jabbing a finger at his chest. "I'm going to go find Cosima before my entire house gets turned upside down."
yellow-hair's scent changes.
worry.
concern.
"Geo, wait! She needs space. You can't just—"
yellow-hair follows him out.
door closes.
alone with sick alpha.
Nikolai.
who took Moon.
who wants Moon.
growl gets louder.
never stopped.
we stare at each other.
predator recognizing predator.
his scent is strange.
sickness fading.
something else beneath.
something familiar.
blood.
steel.
winter.
Vrissian.
like gods at lab.
like Moon.
but not like Moon.
moon is moonlight and sweetness.
she is gentle fingers in hair.
this alpha is death and pain.
cold eyes calculating kill.
like me.
but weaker.
"So," sick alpha says. "Just you and me."
stare.
wait.
"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
still stare.
"I know you do. I've seen you respond to her."
her.
Moon.
Cosima.
even her name in his mouth makes anger rise.
growl.
"Yeah, thought so."
sick alpha moves.
sits on couch across from throne.
"What are you? Some kind of failed experiment? Vrissian weapon?"
words mean nothing.
but tone...
curious.
not mocking.
not afraid.
just studying.
like scientists, but different.
still don't like.
"She thinks you're some kind of protector. Her knight. But we both know what you are."
I lean forward on throne.
metal creaks beneath weight.
watching.
"You're a predator. A killer. That's what they made you for. And it takes one to know one."
truth.
but not whole truth.
was killer before becoming Knight.
was weapon before mask.
was monster before metal.
but now...
now am more.
now I am hers.
"Look," he says. Voice softer now. Don't trust. "No hard feelings about the whole pit thing. In my defense, I didn't know you were sentient."
growl again.
he flinches.
"Okay, so I still don't know if you're sentient. But I do know we have one thing in common."
doubt.
"She deserves better than either of us." Living eye sharpens. "She deserves to be safe, and happy."
truth again.
Moon deserves safety.
above all things.
"So when Azarel comes for her—and he will—what happens then? When the crown fucking prince of Surhiira comes with an army at his back to claim his mate?"
Azarel.
name makes vision go red.
makes metal arm creak with tension.
makes claws itch for blood.
"Will you step aside? Let her go with that bastard who hurt her?" Challenge in voice. "Or will you do what you were made to do?"
what I was made to do?
kill.
destroy.
devour.
only response is a growl.
sick-alpha understands.
lips twist into smirk.
"That's what I thought." Gets up. Moves back to door. "Then we're on the same page. The way I see it, you ate through half of my army easily enough. So if he does bring one, between the four of us, it'll be a fair fight."
four?
other alphas, too?
not used to working together.
used to fighting alone.
other alphas only competition.
only threat.
but for Moon…
willing to change.
just this once.
just until Azarel is dead.
sick alpha puts hand on door.
pauses.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry," he says.
quietly.
flatly.
does not want to say that.
then he leaves.
strange alphas.
all of them.