Ottomir's POV

Rain lashed relentlessly against the thick castle windows. The rain felt like the same force my heart drummed with.

I paced the west living room, my boots clicking impatiently against the cold marble floor. 

Every few steps I would pause and strain my ears for any sound over the howling wind and cracking of thunder.

Beside me, Ashu was practically vibrating with anxiety. 

He stood by the hearth, though the fire had long since dwindled to gray embers. His hands were buried in his hair, his eyes darting toward the door every time the wind rattled the steel frame.

"Do you think they got him?" Ashu's voice was barely a whisper, thin and frayed at the edges.

"They must have," I replied, my voice sounding like gravel grinding together. I forced my jaw to relax. "It's raining. He doesn't do so well in the rain."

Ashu shook his head. "Are you really sure about this, Otto? The King... he's a Lycan. He's the peak of our kind. He's always active during the storms. He just doesn't sleep. I've seen him patrol for hours when the sky breaks open."

I let out a low, mocking chuckle that didn't reach my eyes. I turned my back to him, staring out into the darkness where the forest was nothing but a dark mass of pointed edges against the lightning-streaked sky. 

Ashu and everyone else in this castle was a fool.

"Active is not the same as strong, Ashu," I snapped, a sneer curling my lip as I remembered the night the scales had finally fallen from my eyes.

It had been years ago during a storm much like this one. I had been wandering the upper corridors, unable to rest, when I saw him staggering.

Our Lycan  king was staggering.

There was no other word for it. 

He moved through the hallway like a human wuss, his shoulder catching against the wall as he lurched forward. His head was down, and he was breathing heavily, like someone struggling to stay above water.

I had watched from the shadows, expecting him to shift, to let the wolf take the pain. But he stayed in that pathetic form, trembling like a deer that was caught in headlights. 

He looked fragile. 

He looked... mortal.

The disdain that rose in me that night was unexplainable. 

We were meant to be gods among these pesky humans, and here was our leader, the Alpha of Alphas, reduced to a stumbling wreck by a little water and noise.

From that moment on, I began to study him whenever it rained. I watched and I waited, eventually moving on to my own experiments.

The first time it rained after that discovery, I took a jasmine-scented candle which the king loathed. 

I lit the candle and placed it in the corridor of the floor below his private quarters. If his senses were sharp, he would have smelled it the moment the wick caught fire.

The rain drummed and I waited in the shadows near the stairs, counting the minutes.

An hour passed. Then two.

The King passed through that very corridor on his way to the library. He walked right past the candle. 

He didn't even flinch or turn his head.  He caught not a single whiff of the scent he claimed to despise.

And then, the clouds cleared and the sun began to peek through the sky the next morning. I lit the candle again, in the exact same spot.

Within three minutes, the King's roar shook the foundation of the castle. He stormed into the hall, his eyes dangerous and nostrils fuming. 

"Who dares burn that scent in this castle?" he bellowed. 

"I did, my King," I stepped forward that morning, feigning innocence and embarrassment.

The King took a quick look at me as his anger slowly faded away. "Ottomir. I've warned everyone about this filth. Never burn this again."

"I am sorry. It won't happen again," I apologized.

Even though I had caused a scene, I had gotten my answer.

If he couldn't smell the candle during the storm then he was weak during the storm. 

When the next storm came, I didn't waste time to attempt the experiment again. This time, I didn't burn the candle on the floor below. Instead, I took it with me to the door of his study, where I knew he was at.

I set the candle on a small pedestal right next to the door. I lit it. The jasmine scent exploded in the small space, thick enough to make a human gag. 

I stood there, my hand on the hilt of my dagger, my heart racing with the thrill of the gamble.

I waited for him to smell it and burst through the doors but nothing happened for a couple of minutes. 

The King continued his restless pacing inside the room. He spoke to himself in low, guttural tones, but not once did he acknowledge the candle  sitting inches from his doorway. 

That was when I knew that the rain had neutralized him. It had stripped away the primary weapon and the most precious sense of our kind from him.

"Otto, what are you thinking?" Ashu's voice brought me back to reality.

I turned back to Ashu, who was still staring at me with that pathetic, wide-eyed worry.

The experiment had confirmed everything. 

Something was wrong with the King. I don't know what it was but it was the best opportunity for me to begin to play my hand. 

I hadn't even told Ashu the full truth. I couldn't. He was loyal in his own way, but he was soft.

"He isn't himself during the storms, Ashu," I repeated firmly. 

Ashu looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. He didn't argue anymore. 

I looked back at the front door, my impatience returning.

"That's exactly what I told Rex and Ren," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "I told them to strike tonight. I told them they'd find him a commoner, not a King." 

I turned to Ashu, my eyes widening with glee at the thought of the King dying as my voice rose higher. "I told them that tonight, the Great Lycan King would be nothing but a blind dog lost in the dark."

Ottomir's POV

"Let's say your plan works, you can't easily rule over all packs in the city," Ashu said, his voice cutting through the silence.

He had that annoying tone of his.

Always trying to sound logical.

I gritted my teeth and felt an ache in my jaw from the tension.

My eyes were fixed on the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall, waiting for the moment they would swing open to reveal Rex and Ren bearing his head. I didn't turn to look at Ashu.

"I may not be able to rule them all immediately, Ashu," I replied, my voice low and threatening. "But I assure you that with him gone, everyone would begin to look for who to replace him when all the Alphas fail. And they will fail. Do you know why, Ashu?"

"No, I don't." Ashu replied with sarcasm.

I chuckled dryly, clasping my hands behind my back.

"You make me laugh, Ashu. But to answer your question, any Alpha who rises to the supreme leader position will fail. They don't know what it takes to lead an army of packs. Once they realize this, they will demand a fit leader and that is me. Everyone would easily believe and trust me to lead them better because I won't ask them to hide. I won't ask them to beg for scraps of acceptance from a race that would burn us alive if they had the courage."

I finally turned to face Ashu, the flickering firelight catching in my eyes. "And when I finally become King, with the powers the goddess has blessed me with, I'd show these pesky humans that we'll always be more superior than them. We are the apex, Ashu. Never the livestock."

Ashu swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"They don't know we exist..." he started to say, but the words died in his throat when he saw the sheer rage blooming in my eyes.

He took a half-step back, shaking his head.

"They're not all bad..." he added wistfully, his gaze drifting toward the floor.

I scoffed with disgust. I stepped toward him, invading his personal space until he was forced to look at me. "Stop mingling with that human minx, Ashu. They're not all innocent. They are a plague, and you are infected with their emotions."

Ashu's cheeks flushed an angry red.

He stared down at the floor, unable to meet my gaze.

I knew about the female human he was flirting with at work even though it would never get past flirting because our kinds did not mix with humans.

I hated that Ashu looked at humans and saw something worth a second chance, just like the King.

It made me want to rip the throat out of every human.

"For five hundred years now," I continued, my voice heavy with bitterness. "Our existence has been nothing but camouflage. We have worn their clothes, spoken their languages, and followed their pathetic laws. We cannot be the creatures we're truly born to be. This is hell, Ashu. A cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty it is."

I withdrew from his personal space and paced the length of the living room. "And the King is too blinded by diplomacy to see it. He thinks existing among them and hiding our true nature will make them accept us? He thinks if we play nice for another thousand years, they'll continue to invite us to their dinner tables instead of their operating tables?"

"But that's the point," Ashu replied begrudgingly, his voice dropping as if the walls themselves might be listening. "So many of us died all those years ago because humans didn't understand us. The wars... they were efficient at killing us when they knew what we were. The King's strategy is why we're still alive till this day. Don't you understand?"

I stopped pacing and looked at him ruefully.

The memories of the war burned in my mind. I could still smell the burning fur and hear the screams of our kind as the humans' blades cut them deep.

"And that's why we should kill them all instead of blending in and hiding in the shadows, pretending to be one of them," I countered. "We don't need their understanding. We need their extinction. Or at the very least, their total subjugation. Besides, they made other humans slaves. We can do the same."

Ashu avoided my gaze as the atmosphere grew deadly silent.

He knew I was right. Any were or other in their right senses would know I am right. Humans deserved to be extinct. Their kind spread diseases and hatred wherever they go.

I turned back to face the door.

The King would be dead by now. Rex and Ren are one of the most skilled warriors in the Hikers' Pack.

"Do you really think they will do it?" Ashu's voice creeped up behind me.

"The king has never once treated us badly. You shouldn't do this to him, Otto."

I scoffed at Ashu's remark.

"Sometimes, Ashu, one has to cut off a finger to let the other fingers survive. Our King may be good to us, but he is not good for us. Not when we're behaving like humans."

Suddenly, a massive clap of thunder rocked the sky at my response.

Could the moon goddess agree with me?

At that exact moment, the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall swung open with a violent force.

The cool, wet storm air rushed inside, putting out the last embers in the hearth and sending a sudden chill through the room. I stood tall, my heart racing with anticipation.

Two figures emerged from the shadows, and my excitement quickly turned to disappointment.

Atticus stepped in first, looking drenched but perfectly alert.

Right behind him was the King, walking with a steady, powerful stride that seemed to defy the fact that the storms made him weak

He did not look like a man who had been attacked. If anything, he looked very agile and just as alert as Atticus.

When the light in the hallway hit his face, my blood turned to ice.

The King looked stronger than I had ever seen him on a normal day. His eyes were not dull and he didn't look like someone that wouldn't be able to catch the whiff of a jasmine scent from miles away.

Instead his eyes glowed with a predatory fire and then my eyes caught a limp figure in his arms and I almost faltered.

Ottomir's POV

"Who's that?"

Ashu didn't even wait for the heavy oak doors to finish rebounding against the stone walls.

He was already halfway across living room, his shoes plodding on the polished marble as he rushed toward Atticus and the King.

I stayed back for a second, my hands clenching into fists behind my back.

The King was alive.

If he was here then that means that Rex and Ren had failed and were now dead. Or they had chickened out.

But then, I spotted a dried red streak on the king's chest and then I knew.

I knew something had happened.

Rex and Ren were gone.

But how could it be? I was very sure that the king was almost disabled whenever it rains.

How was he alive?

He was supposed to be a broken wreck, barely holding onto his dignity. Instead, he looked as if he had just finished a refreshing walk under the rain.

The taste of failure was bitter, like copper in my mouth. I forced my expression to soften, hiding my disappointment behind a mask of calm concern.

Smoothening my features, I stepped forward and followed Ashu who seemed to not be slightly bothered by the King's presence.

"My King," I murmured, the words feeling like shards of glass.

He was standing tall in a trench coat that he wasn't wearing when he'd left the castle earlier. His shoulder length hair was dripping water to the floor.

He looked as regal and poised as ever.

I hated to admit that he looked like a true King.

However, as I drew closer, my focus shifted.

My eyes snagged on the bundle in the King's wet arms

A human.

The King has never held a woman in his arms before. At least, not within the walls of this castle.

The human was soaked to the bone, her long, dark hair plastered across a face that looked like it belonged on a porcelain doll.

Instantly, a different kind of hunger stirred in my gut.

My stomach gave a low, involuntary rumble. It was an old, animalistic instinct, a sharp reminder of what we used to be, once upon a time.

"I hope it's dinner," I said, my voice ringing through the quiet of the room. I let a grin pull at my lips. "I haven't had human meat in seven hundred years."

Ashu snapped his head toward me, shooting me a reprimanding look.

"Human meat isn't as refreshing as animal meat," Ashu tried to wave off my comment as he chuckled nervously.

I shook my head at him as I got closer to see the girl clearly.

Atticus also shook his head, a light chuckle escaping him as he raised a hand to wring the excess water from his cropped hair.

The King didn't even acknowledge me or Ashu.

His eyes remained fixed on the woman as he strode past us, his body leaving a trail of dark droplets on the floor.

"You'll never get your revenge, sorry," Atticus said to me, his tone light but tinged with a genuine sympathy that irritated me more than a slap would have.

Giving him a wry smile, memories flooded my mind, not feeling centuries old at all.

Before the humans built their steel cities, they were simpler and more honest in their cruelty. They knew we existed, and they hated us for it. They used to hunt us not for survival, but for sport, and for the thrill of seeing us bleed.

They had canines with them; hounds they used in luring us out because in their minds, we were just as pitiful as those lowly dogs.

And one unfortunate day, when my pack thought the coast was clear, we were ambushed.

That day is still as clear as spring water in my mind. The man who had murdered my family had worn a chest piece of boiled leather and carried a spear tipped with the highest grade of Silver.

Father had told me to hide after they killed my sister. I watched from the hollow of a log as the man drove that silver through my mother's chest.

The sound of her ribs snapping was a sound I would never forget.

Father had shifted and roared so loud that it should have split the sky, but another blade found his throat before he could reach mother's body.

They died in the dirt, their blood mixing in the brown earth.

The murderer had turned then, his eyes finding mine in the log. He had raised his spear ready to strike. I would have shifted at that point but my emotions were too volatile to let me.

When I closed my eyes, ready to accept my faith... the King arrived.

He tore the murderer from limb to limb and then saved me.

"Atticus," the King's voice cracked through the room, snapping me from the memories.

Atticus immediately moved to the King's side, his demeanor shifting from casual to dutiful in an instant.

He took the unconscious girl from the King's arms, handling her with a gentleness that made my stomach churn.

He carried her to the hearth, and stoked a new fire, placing her on the thick Persian rug near the heat.

Ashu, ever the curious fool, crept closer. He leaned down, his nose wrinkling as he took a long, deep sniff of the girl's damp skin.

"She smells awful," Ashu whispered, his face twisting in a grimace. "Like depression and death."

Atticus nodded solemnly, looking back at the King, who remained standing in the center of the room.

"She smells like tragedy," Atticus affirmed. "I told him so."

I scoffed, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms over my chest. I didn't care about what she smelled like.

To me, she was just another part of the plague that had taken everything from me.

"Yuck, depressed humans are the worst kind" I spat, my voice dripping with disdain. "Why bring her here?"

Every eye in the room turned toward the King who still hadn't said anything or moved from the center of the room.