Chapter 452: Shallow.
Darius.
A LITTLE BIT OF GORE EXISTS IN THIS Chapter. I’M SORRY.
I knew that it was father who had been killed that day four years ago. And I know this because I had specifically followed him as he snuck off to go and meet his lover, Maurice, but instead of finding her at their spot, he found the then Alpha of Stormborn pack and his Beta, Malakai, waiting because I had tipped them off.
I also watched him getting dragged away like he was some fucking criminal, and even though that scene had hunted me for ages, I had gotten quite an immense amount of satisfaction from watching him fight and lose.
And he never loses.
But he lost that day.
Why?
Because I had given them the perfect elixir that helped to keep him docile...
And I had joined in the crowd of spectators, watching as his unfortunate life came to an end that day—
That day as they beheaded him.
I could still remember it like it was the back of my palm. The sun had been scorching hot that day. So hot that it felt as though I was in my personal purgatory for hurting the one person who I should never have hurt.
The crowd of werewolves were agitated and loud, demanding his head for being a violent filthy Lycan thief—
—Oh, I also planted the Jade pendants, the antique relics which I didn’t know what they were at the time and the gold... many of them in his stuff to make that accusation look more real—
It worked.
And then, there was Maurice, the woman who started it all, standing at a corner of the ground with a handkerchief pressed to her face but she didn’t make a sound.
From where I stood, I could see her shoulders trembling with barely suppressed tears. I could see and almost feel her limbs shaking with the inability to hold herself up for much longer. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen and they never— not even for once— left father’s limp figure as he knelt before the crowd. Her two children stood by her side, confused as to why she was crying so much... But the daughter I wanted to see... the one who I had gone to all these lengths for was nowhere to be found.
No one even seemed to mention her.
No one cared about her.
"By the power vested in me as Alpha of this prestigious pack, I pronounce this piece of filth a criminal, a traitor and an adulterer! He has been charged with the aforementioned crimes plus the attempted murder of the Alpha and is therefore sentenced to death... by beheading!"
Hearing those words had made me freeze. For a moment, I felt as though I had just been doused in icy cold water. Goosebumps spread across my skin despite the heat, and in that moment, I felt something I had tried so hard not to feel since the beginning of this ordeal.
Guilt.
It rushed into me like a tidal wave, coming hand in hand with its twin brother, Shame.
With difficulty, I bit my lower lip and lowered my head, squeezing my eyes shut to ensure that I did not have to witness what was about to happen.
A second passed... and then two, and after a moment, after I had decided that they probably wouldn’t kill him today, I peeled my eyes open just about the same time as I saw the axe rain down on his exposed neck with a force so immense, it had his head ripping off his shoulder in one swift move.
Blood splattered everywhere, shooting out of his neck like a broken faucet and spraying across the ground to stain the bodies and clothes of the people, especially of those standing at the front.
His severed head fell to the floor, rolling just a few inches away from Beta Malakai’s boots. And do you know what he did when this happened?
He kicked it into the crowd like it was a ball.
Forcefully. Heavily.
The crowd parted just enough for it to fall through and land in the center, and I could only watch with disappointment and pain as it hit the dirt, earning a loud cheering from the crowd.
To my horror, I realized that the crime I had tried very hard not to witness, I had witnessed it first hand but I didn’t know how to feel about that or how to respond besides standing there in a daze.
While I stood frozen in shock, Maurice cried out in agony and until she was practically dragged out of there like they knew she was about to do something stupid.
I stood there until the last of the crowd of cheering werewolves finally dispersed and it wasn’t until this happened that I bent down to pick up the bloody severed head.
And yes, it was him.
It was his same head of long silver strands. The same face and the same electric purple eyes that now stared into nothingness. The same birthmark rested on top of his lips on the left side of his face, and even in his death, his eerie frown remained.
So what the fuck happened?
How is it possible that the same man whom I had orchestrated his death, the same man whom I had watched die and picked up his discarded corpse and buried it under the pouring rain now stood in front of me like he was suddenly back from the underworld?
How is it possible that he is hale and hearty and still has the effrontery to look down at me like I was still the cockroach he had helped build?
The absurdity of it all made me vibrate in both rage and confusion and I didn’t even know when I flung my phone against the wall until the sound of it shattering into several tiny pieces snapped me back to the present.
"Do you want me to get you a new phone?" My newest PA, since I had fired the last one about a week ago, asked, her eyes wide with concern as she glanced at me then at the broken phone... and then back at me again. "Do you need help with anything?"
"No, I do not!" I hissed angrily, turning away from her to rub at my stiff face. "You should give me your phone instead and get yourself another one later."
The girl didn’t even hesitate for a second to do as told. I watched her suspiciously as she easily dropped her phone on my desk, bowed deeply and then turned away to walk out the door, leaving me glaring at her retreating back... but not just at her back...
At her perky ass as well.
Something about the way it moved with each step she took made my dick stir within its confines. I hissed. "Stop!"
She stopped, turned around and tilted her head to the side.
"Alpha?"
"Strip." I commanded, and for the first time, I saw a different emotion fleet past her face. Was it fear? Confusion? Annoyance? Irritation? I do not know and do not care.
She simply hovered her fingers around the top of her blouse and waited as if wanting to clarify if she had heard correctly.
"I didn’t catch that," she said after a moment. "You want me to strip?"
"Yes, down to your skin..." I snapped back. "Do not take off your heels though. I like to see them, especially the red bottoms."
She gasped. "Huh?"
"When you’re done wondering if I am talking to you or not, strip. Then spread your legs wide as you lay on your back on my table."
"But there are things on your table, Sir!" She cried— more like sobbed. But did I care?
Of course not.
"I know, and that’s why you’ll lay on them... in fact, I change my mind." I snapped, and when I saw the relief instantly flood her face, I added; "You do not have to lay on your back. Just bend over the table. I do not need to see your face while I fuck you."
I noticed the way the color drained from her face as soon as I said that. Her face also literally crumbled and I could only smile as she lowered her head and began to undo the buttons of her blouse with shaky fingers.
"Good."
She then came to stand by the edge of the table, squeezed her eyes shut and pushed out her backside so much that I had a clear view of her juicy pussy without even trying.
But I didn’t fuck her immediately. I didn’t even undo my belt.
I watched her like a predator would watch its prey while drinking in her sight. She was shaking visibly, crying like she’d just been forced into a funeral.
A long moment passed with me simply admiring her luscious body, and after a while, when I became bored, I slowly undid my belt, raised it high in the air and let it tumble down on her body— not actually her body... her pussy.
She screamed.
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