The Field
Grason
The world is a tunnel, and at the end of it is Ken.
It takes everything in me not to break into a run, not to surge ahead and tear into him before Cass gets close. My instincts scream for speed, for violence, for blood. But I stay where I am, shoulder to shoulder with Cass, matching his pace step for step.
My breathing stays even by sheer force of will as everything narrows down to the distance between us and the crunch of dirt and grass under our boots.
Ken keeps unloading the truck, half turned away, moving like he doesn’t sense what’s coming right for him.
My fists tighten as we get closer, and Tansy’s beautiful face comes into view.
My perfect omega.
I picture her as a little girl, with her wild red hair and trusting brown eyes. I see her small. Quiet. Hiding under the blankets as a monster slipped into the room.
The thought makes my vision blur at the edges.
We’re twenty feet away. Then ten.
Ken must feel us coming, because he straightens and then turns. For half a second, he looks confused as he looks at Cass, but then his eyes meet mine, and the fire in my gut explodes.
But Cass moves first.
There's a blur of motion beside me as Cass moves with a speed that defies his bad leg. It’s a pure, explosive burst of alpha fury. Before Ken can even register the shift in my expression, before anyone can draw a breath, Cass's fist connects with Ken's face.
It's a sickening, wet crack.
Bone hitting bone.
Ken's head snaps back, and he staggers backward, hands flying up too late as he hits the side of the truck and slides to the ground in a heap.
Blood instantly gushes from his nose, a shocking, vivid red against his white T-shirt.
I’m moving the instant it happens, not to stop Cass, but to flank him. My pulse roars in my ears, every instinct screaming finish it, but I keep myself leashed to Cass’s shoulder.
Ken coughs, wheezing, one hand braced on the truck, the other clutching his face. He looks up, shock giving way to dawning fear as he really sees us. “What the fuck?” he growls deep in his chest.
Cass looms over him, breathing steadily, eyes cold. “You motherfucker.”
Ken spits a mouthful of blood onto the dusty ground, his eyes narrowing as he tries to regain his composure. "I don't know what your problem is," he snarls, as he pushes himself up, using the truck's tailgate for support. "But you just made a huge mistake."
Cass doesn't say anything. He watches him, his posture deceptively calm.
It's more terrifying than if he were yelling.
"Is this about her? Isn’t it?" Ken scoffs, a nasty, knowing smirk twisting his lips.
"Let me guess. Tansy sent you? Crying her little eyes out, spinning some new tale for attention?
" He shakes his head, a look of profound disgust on his face.
"She always was a pathetic little liar. Always looking for a way to be the center of the universe.
You're a fool if you believe a word that comes out of her mouth. "
Cold, controlled fury flickers in Cass’s eyes, replaced by something hotter, something absolute. He takes a step forward, his limp barely visible. I’m sure it’s the adrenaline.
"She's not a liar," Cass says, his voice dangerously quiet. "And you're not going to talk about her anymore."
"Or what?" Ken challenges, puffing out his chest. He thinks he's still in control. He thinks this is a negotiation, another manipulation. "You'll hit me again? Go ahead. See what it gets you. I've been dealing with hysterical omegas and their sycophants my whole life. You're nothing new."
Something in me snaps tight enough to hurt.
Every instinct I have is screaming to crack his skull open, to put him down hard and fast and permanently.
But I can’t.
Not without Cass’s say-so.
“Get the fuck off my property,” Ken snarls, wiping at his bloody nose with the back of his hand. “Before I kick your ass.”
Cass’s hands fly out, grabbing Ken by the front of his flannel shirt, his fist bunching the fabric, then he yanks him away from the truck. Ken stumbles, his smirk fading as he's forced to move.
"You touched her," Cass says, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "You touched a little girl."
Ken's face pales, the smug look finally cracking. "I never touched her. She's lying!"
"Lying?" Cass repeats, and then he's dragging the older alpha, not toward the truck, but toward the crumbling concrete silo that looms over us like a tombstone. "She was a child, you piece of shit. Your own fucking daughter!"
"She's a lying whore!" Ken screams, finally losing his composure, thrashing in Cass's grip. "She wanted it! She was always asking for it, prancing around in those little shorts!"
That's it. That's the end.
The last thread of Cass's control snaps. I see it in his eyes, a complete and total surrender to his rage. He slams Ken against the silo, the impact knocking the air from the older alpha’s lungs.
For a second, Ken is dazed, but then survival instincts kick in.
His arms flail wildly, and he manages to land a few desperate punches to Cass's face. One catches Cass's cheek, another his jaw. But my pack alpha doesn’t even react.
A thrill pumps through my veins, sharp and electric as I watch my packmate give Tansy the sweet justice she deserves.
"You are so fucking pathetic." Cass slams Ken's head against the silo again, punctuating each word. “You are a coward who preys on children.” Slam. “Did you feel big when you touched her?” Slam. “Did it make you feel powerful?” Slam.
He laughs, a harsh, humorless sound. “You're nothing.” He jerks Ken’s upper body to him, snarling in his face. “You're less than nothing. And I'm going to wipe you off the face of this earth like the stain you are.”
Then he bashes Ken's head against the silo again.
The sound is a wet, crunchy thud, followed by a horrible, gurgling noise from Ken's throat. He looks cross-eyed, his arms trying to push Cass away, but it's like they won't work anymore, his muscles disconnected from his brain.
“St…op.” Ken mumbles, the word thick and slurred.
Cass leans in, his lips brushing against Ken's bloody ear. "But you asked for this," he whispers.
And then my powerful alpha kills the fucker.
Cass pulls Ken's head back and slams it forward, one last time.
The sound is final, a sickening crack of bone against concrete that echoes in the sudden silence of the field.
Ken's body goes completely limp, a puppet with its strings cut, and slumps to the dusty ground in a heap of bloody, broken flesh.
Cass stands over him, his chest heaving, and his face spattered with Ken's blood. He looks down at the body, then at his own hands, and then over at me. His eyes are clear, the rage gone, replaced with pure relief.
“I’m kind of hard right now,” I smirk at my alpha.
A surprised laugh bursts from Cass's chest, a rough, rusty sound that seems out of place in the quiet field. But it cuts off abruptly, his eyes going wide as he looks past me, toward the house. I turn, following his gaze, and then I see him.
Daniel.
He’s standing on the front step, his hands hanging loose at his sides, watching us with an unreadable expression. Then he moves toward us.
Daniel walks slowly at first, his brows pulled together in confusion as he stares at Ken.
Then something shifts, and his pace quickens.
Before I know it, the older alpha is running straight for us.
I move instantly, angling my body between him and Cass, feet planting wide as I drop into a fighting stance. Every muscle in me tightens, ready to intercept, to put Daniel on the ground if I have to. My focus locks on his shoulders, his hands, the line of his jaw.
But Daniel doesn’t even look at me.
In fact, he arcs around me in a wide circle, giving me space on purpose, like he doesn’t want a fight with me at all. His path bends cleanly, cutting straight past my guard and zeroing in on one target only.
Ken.
Daniel crouches in front of the bloody alpha, movements precise and unsettlingly calm. He tilts Ken’s head with two fingers, studies the damage. He presses a thumb into Ken’s cheek, watches the slack flesh give, then slides his fingers to Ken’s neck.
I don’t lower my guard for a second.
My fists stay ready, eyes flicking between Daniel and Cass.
Cass is breathing hard now, weight sunk into his cane, jaw clenched like he’s sheer willpower holding himself upright. One word from him and I’ll end Daniel, too.
Then Daniel straightens, and he slowly turns to face us. His dark eyes slide from Cass to me, then back again, before he finally says, “I know where we can hide the body.”
His words take too long for me to process.
“What?” I ask. I must have heard him wrong.
“But we need to hurry,” Daniel says, ignoring my question.
The field seems to hold its breath.
I stare at him, every muscle in my body screaming threat, then cut a look at Cass, searching his face for the call. For an order. For anything. But Cass doesn’t answer right away. He stares at Daniel, eyes sharp and assessing, chest still rising and falling too fast.
For a long moment, no one moves.
Then Cass looks at me and gives a single, sharp nod.
Permission.
“Where are we taking him?” I shift, stepping up next to Ken’s body.
“There’s a covered well along the back of the property,” Daniel says. He bends and picks up one of Ken’s shoes. “It hasn’t been used in decades.”
I bend, hook my arms under Ken’s weight, and haul him up in one smooth motion. He’s heavier than he looks. Dead weight always is. His torso slumps forward as I sling him over my shoulder, his head lolling back, blood smearing against my shirt.
Cass falls inline beside me as we follow Daniel.
His limp is pronounced now, the cane biting into the ground with each pace. I can hear his breathing, still rough, but he doesn’t slow. He refuses to let the pain dictate anything.
“This way.” Daniel bends, pushing into a thicket of trees.
The well sits half-hidden near a line of dead brush, its mouth covered by warped wooden boards nailed down years ago. The wood is gray and splintered, swollen from weather. Moss creeps along the edges like it’s been reclaiming the thing one inch at a time.
Daniel grabs a rusted pry bar from nearby debris and wedges it under the boards. He strains, jaw clenched, muscles trembling as the nails resist. The wood groans but doesn’t give right away.
I lower Ken to the ground while Daniel works. As I do, I notice Ken’s eyes are open. But then they move. It’s a slick flicker as his body gives a faint, useless twitch.
Is he still alive?
Maybe Cass broke his neck, and he’s still alive in there.
Good.
The boards finally give with a sharp crack, nails screaming as Daniel pries them loose. One by one, he tears them free, revealing a black hole beneath. The well drops straight down, the darkness absolute. No sound comes up from it. No echo. Pure depth.
I grab Ken again and step to the edge.
Then I tip him forward and let gravity take over.
The fucker’s body drops into the dark, vanishing fast. There’s a brutal, meaty crack as he slams into the stone wall on the way down. The sound echoes once, ugly and final, before fading into nothing.
I don’t bother wondering how much of him is still intact by the time he hits bottom. Whether the fall kills him outright or leaves him to die slowly doesn’t matter. Either way, Ken is done. And he’ll never touch anyone again.
He will never speak another lie into existence.
Daniel immediately starts replacing the boards, movements quick now, efficient. He hammers them back into place, sealing the well as if it had never opened.
Cass watches for a moment, then asks, “What else do you need help with?”
Daniel doesn’t look up. “Nothing.” He wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’ll move his truck. Hose off the blood near the silo. I’ve got time.” He checks his watch. “It’s not 10 a.m. yet.” He looks up at Cass, then me. “You should go.”
Cass studies him for a beat. “The cops had better not show up at my door,” he warns.
“They won’t,” Daniel says firmly.
Cass’s eyes narrow. “If anyone finds his body, I expect you—”
“I swear, Cassian,” Daniel steps up to the pack alpha, hand extended. “If anyone finds Ken’s body, I’ll make sure it doesn’t come back to you.” His hand stays suspended in the air. “I owe that much to Tansy.”
Cass lets out a slow breath, then takes Daniel’s hand, shaking it once. “You owe her so much more.” Then he releases Daniel’s hand and turns away without another word.
I fall in step behind him.
We pass the silo on the way back.
Dark smears streak the brick where Ken went down, ugly against the old red stone. I glance at it, then away, jaw tightening. “You really think Daniel can keep his mouth shut?”
Cass doesn’t slow. His grip tightens on the cane, knuckles pale. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I think he’s riddled with guilt.” He glances up at me. “I think he’ll keep his mouth shut for Tansy.”
I nod, accepting that. We keep walking, gravel crunching underfoot.
We reach the car and climb in. Once we’re both buckled, I ask the question that’s been burning at the back of my throat. “Are you going to tell her?”
Cass exhales through his nose. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I honestly don’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, then adds, “We talked once about revenge.” His mouth pulls tight. “She asked what happened after I got shot. She wanted to know about Caleb.”
I look at him.
“She told me,” Cass continues, voice low and steady, “that revenge invites more violence. That it’s a vicious cycle.
Someone always pays for it later.” He lets out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t want her to spend the rest of her life waiting for retaliation,” Cass says. “Waiting for William to come knocking.”
I nod slowly and start the car, deciding that it's okay to keep this one secret from her.
“Come on,” Cass taps my leg. “Let’s get home to our girl.”