For the Unworthy

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

It was easier to kill someone than Ren thought it would be.

The knife slid so easily into their skin, their screams fading into the background until Ren couldn’t even hear them, could only hear the dull thumps of his hand bringing the blade down over and over again on the Alpha’s chest and throat.

The stickiness of their blood splashed over his face, threatening to blind him, but he found he didn’t really care.

He couldn’t look away from the Alpha’s eyes.

They were so wide, so black with panic, slowly fading just like the other four’s did.

Ren shifted where he sat on the man’s chest, his ribcage so wide Ren’s knees didn’t even touch the ground.

He thought it was funny—no one would ever believe that a stupid, helpless little Omega was able to kill five Alphas.

No one would believe it until they saw what a mess he had made of these men who were so revered in their village.

No one would ever believe that pretty, petite little Ren had been the one to kill them.

Ren leaned over the man, tilting his head to one side as he searched his eyes, making sure he was still there, before he whispered, “What’s wrong? Do you want me to get off?” Ren watched the blood gurgle from the Alpha’s throat as he tried to speak.

The man screamed, the sound broken, like Ren had heard from dying animals in the woods, just as he brought the knife down on the Alpha’s throat again.

Blood was so much thicker than Ren had thought it would be; he had only ever experienced little cuts, the red a light color, the consistency thin and barely noticeable.

The blood that seeped from the Alpha’s neck, from his chest, from the multiple puncture wounds Ren had inflicted on him, was so dark it looked almost black.

The splatters that had gotten on his shirt were already turning a murky, disgusting shade of brown.

Ren panted as he leaned heavily on the handle of his knife. The man had stopped moving, his chest no longer rising, his eyes wide open.

Ren took several deep, long breaths, his hands trembling as he pulled the knife out one last time, tossing it to the side with a shrill clang. He glanced at the others he had left in similar conditions, the bodies illuminated in the bright light of the moon.

Ren tipped his chin up, staring at the white circle in the sky.

He almost wished it was a Blood Moon; he could have blamed it all on his Wolven instincts if it was.

But the night was a normal one—if a bit warm for this time of year; the breeze that kissed his heated skin didn’t chill him like it should have for it barely being spring.

He hauled himself to his feet, ignoring how his legs shook, and marched past the dead Alphas, making his way home.

Ren’s feet moved him forward, knowing exactly how to get him home, dodging nooks and crannies in the road that he had memorized over the years.

They knew to avoid paths that were a little too small or alleys that were a little too dark, where the dull shouts of tavern regulars could easily be heard.

He shivered as he walked, the air eventually chilling him through his clothes. He never considered how cold blood could become once it was outside of the body. It had been so hot when it ran over his hands, but now, it was like he was soaked in ice water.

Ren shoved inside of a shack of a house his feet had brought him to. The door was barely clinging to its hinges and hadn’t been able to lock in years. The screen door was hanging on by a single corner, and the walls Ren had painted years before were peeling.This place never changed.

Ren ignored the sounds of movement within his home, the obvious thud of someone’s feet hitting the floor before moving toward him. He walked over to the sink, turned it on, and started trying to wash his hands.

“Ren?”

Ren didn’t startle at his brother’s voice like he probably should have. He probably should have moved to cover the evidence he was covered in, but instead he raised his head and smiled at the younger, “Hey, Lee.”

His brother’s dark eyes were so round as they stared at him, Ren almost thought he could see his pupils shaking.

He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his dark hair wild around his head and his pale cheeks were somehow even paler than usual.

He looked like their father—they both did—maybe that was why their mother hated them.

“Ren what are you- why- what is that? Is that blood?” His brother’s voice sounded more like several gasps being pulled into his lungs rather than actual words.

He wanted to tell Lee to calm down, to breathe, but the only thing he could focus on was that he needed to clean his skin, needed to get the feeling of the Alphas off of him.

The sounds of the water streaming from the faucet, running over his hands as he scrubbed them, was the only noise for a long time—long enough for Ren to almost forget Lee was standing there watching him. He startled when his brother suddenly yelled, “M-mom? Mom! Mom, get in here!”

Ren frowned as he dug his nails into his skin, trying to rip the red out of it as though he could peel his flesh from his hands. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if it was the Alphas’ blood or his own being washed down the drain.

“Ren?” His mother’s voice cut through the fog inside his mind. He ignored her, not raising his head as she walked into the room. “What is going on?”

Ren peered up at her, blinking when she came up right beside him and grabbed him by the wrist, holding up his stained hands in horror. Ren usually would have flinched away from making contact with his mother, but this time, he just watched her carefully as she took in his hands and clothing.

His mother seemed to notice how he didn’t flinch away from her like he normally did, how he glared rather than cowering back. “Ren, what did you do?” she whispered.

Ren paused for a few moments before shrugging. “Those Alphas won’t bother anyone anymore.” He glanced at Lee who looked more owl than Wolf with those panicked eyes. “They can’t ever bother you now.”

Ren’s head snapped to one side as his mother slapped him across the face.

The force of it should have made him gasp or shout out at the pain that imprinted itself on his cheek.

But Ren turned back to her and brushed the hair out of his face.

His mother’s mouth twitched in horry at the fact that Ren hadn’t immediately gone running—hadn’t immediately moved his arms up to protect himself.

“What did you do?” she repeated, as though she couldn’t believe what was so obvious given he was drenched in blood.

“Why do you care?” Ren whispered, raising his eyebrows up.

His mother put her hand up, ready to slap him again, only to lower it slowly a heartbeat later as she whispered, “How could you do this to yourself—how could you do this to us?”

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he murmured.

Ren wanted to yell at his mother that there was no us—there had never been an us.

Ren and Lee were both parasites in their mother’s life—children she never wanted with a man who had used her just like all Alphas used Omegas.

She resented Ren the most though, hating him ever since he was a child.

Ren had planned to run away as soon as he had any amount of money.

There never was an ‘us,’ and there never was going to be.

But he didn’t say any of that, he simply kept his lips shut tightly.

“I’m going to call the Warriors,” his mother said, taking a step back.

“I won’t let them think I was a part of this—that I helped or condoned this.

You better not tell them I had anything to do with this!

” It was the first time Ren had ever smelled such potent fear on her.

The smell harsh in his nose. “Lee, make sure he doesn’t leave! ”

Ren rolled his eyes at her. No one would have ever assumed she was a part of this—everyone knew how much she hated her son. So, Ren turned back to the sink as she ran out, yelling, “Help, help!” Her voice screechy and hysterical.

Ren frowned when he looked down at his once-white shirt. He splashed some water on the cloth, pursing his lips when it did nothing, even when he scrubbed it with a bit of soap. He sighed as he tugged it up and over his head, shoving it under the flow of water.

He wrung it out over and over again but the water never ran clear; the cloth never became white again. It probably never would.

Behind him, the door slammed open with a loud bang, the creak of the hinges protesting—a few more hits like that and they would give out entirely.

Ren hummed to himself, thinking about the fact that he wouldn’t have to be the one to fix it this time—his mother would have to call someone.

She wouldn’t be getting free labor out of Ren anymore.

The thought made his lips twitch upwards.

Ren grabbed more soap, scrubbing at his hands furiously as the voices behind him grew louder—asking where he was, asking if he had been the one to murder the Alphas they had found.

The Warriors had come far quicker than Ren had expected them to; they were always so slow to arrive whenever he called for help.

He scowled as he scratched at his hands, trying to get the blood off the backs of them before he had to leave.

Hands latched onto him a second later, grabbing his shoulders so hard he knew they would leave hand and finger shaped bruises. It wouldn’t be so different from normal—he always seemed to be covered in bruises, it was the natural state of things for him.

He knew the Warriors were far stronger than him, but he still yelped when they tried to drag him away from the sink. He needed to wash up. He needed to get clean. He couldn’t have any more of those Alphas on him, on his skin, inside of him?—

“Please, just let me finish washing my hands!” he yelled.