"Omega's are supposed to stay quiet. Omega's are supposed to obey. Omega's are supposed to do EVERYTHING I fucking say!" Alpha Morrison said in anger as he spat at me. I lived each day in fear for my life. Wondering what I did wrong to deserve such...
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Livie's POV
After we ate, Alarick showed me around some more, and by the end, he showed me our room. I won't get into it because my mind is still trying to wrap around how gorgeous the room is. But it is by far the biggest thing I have ever seen. I could get lost in there, I swear.
The bathroom alone is a dream. Half of our walls, including the restroom and shower, are thick, impenetrable glass. There are plants and trees at the back of every wall.
The first thing I did was jump in the shower while he tended to a few things. I loved every single minute of it. The shower was so good; it was like standing at the bottom of a waterfall. Seriously, this has got to be a dream. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
(Third Person POV)
Little did Livie know that a war was stirring while she started her new life in peace with Alarick as her mate.
Morrison was glad his son had gotten rid of the last trace of the Watsons family. The guilt inside him was eating at him, slowly, creeping bit by bit deeper inside of him. Even if he wasn't the alpha anymore, he was sure to have the freedom to keep doing his ugly deeds behind closed doors now that he was gone. And without Livie's eyes boring into his soul and reminding him every day of his ugly past, he was now free to walk without the extra weight on his back.
But- The dirty laundry he carelessly left behind did not sit well with the rogue king. He had hurt many innocent girls, and the king was keeping track. He knew the countless she-wolves Morrison and Gunther had hurt and all the ugly truth behind those dungeon walls. He was fed. He wanted Morrison to suffer; he wanted Gunther to suffer, to make them feel the same pain they had inflicted on others and had made him feel once.
Who needs a damn single kingdom when you can conquer it all? Maybe the rogue king had been stripped of his lands, his pack, his rights, and his family, but he had other things no one could take away: his bravery, strength, and loyal servants who would give their lives without thought.
And what more could he want? Just one thing was missing, and he would not stop until he was victorious over his new quest.
"What do you have for me?" he says as he walks inside his office and glances at the numerous papers that sat on the tabletop before him. "It seems they were visited by the Dark Moon just recently. Word has it little Skylar has gone to the big bad wolf to beg for help." the guy answers sarcastically, making the rogue king growl, his eyes turning dark.
"What about her? What were you able to find out?" he asks hesitantly for a woman, unsure if he should ask. "Nothing yet. We haven't been able to get any closer than their borders. They have new guards through their perimeter. Dark Moon's alpha set the whole place up with his guards to protect their walls. I think," he says, making the king's eyes darken with anger. His blood seethed as he had anticipated good news. But this new obstacle had to have a way around it.
Could he have found a mate in that pack and hesitated to claim her during the last attack? Or perhaps someone had grabbed his attention and stirred mercy in his soul. Maybe he thought he saw someone from his past, someone... crucial he thought dead.
Whoever it was, it was making him unsteady. "It can't be that fucking hard to filter one of our men in there. We've done it before with other packs. DO SOMETHING. ASAP!" He roars, slamming his fist on the table.
The men around lower their heads in submission, "Yes, King. As you wish." The nickname had stuck well; frankly, he didn't mind it.
Alarick himself had given him the nickname just as he had given Alarick the nickname 'Beast.' Through his hardships in life, he learned to fight till death, not giving any chance at making a mistake. He was hard on himself as much as he was on his men. But no one, not one, had ever given him such a run for his money as Alarick did, and for that, he had a bit of respect for him.
He was by far at least five years older than Alarick, yet he saw Alarick had put up a great fight. Not even experienced alphas claiming to be the best and strongest had put up such a challenge as that kid did. It was the only reason he had retreated and commanded his people to never trespass on Alarick's territory again.
As for Skylar, he wondered, had that kid grown to become such a coward that he'd run to the wolves of the Dark Moon for protection? He had seen potential in that kid; he knew he wasn't as pathetic and useless as the father. He hated the thought of being wrong. But then- he was wrong about Alarick when he first confronted him, making him a weak kid.
He rubs the back of his head, grunting in frustration and crumbling the paper under him. His frustration has got the best of him. He had planned to invade the Silver Moon pack days ago, but he had retracted his attack order out of separate events. That day, he spent it in isolation, locking himself in his room all day and directing everyone to stay away as he desired solitude.
Now- he wishes he had gone. The dark moon was now involved with a territory he wanted, and not even Alarick would stand in his way. If he can't have it, he will sure as hell make sure to destroy it. No one will have it, especially Morrison or his kid. If he had to break his vow and fight against Alarick, maybe... It would have to get done.
He looks out his window, admiring as two kids play with a new rogue female they had rescued. They had found her a mile away from Silver Moon Pack's territory. She had yet to talk and rarely came out of her room to socialize with anyone. But it was far more than evident to him that Morrison was at fault for all this. It wasn't the first time he rescued girls left for dead miles away from Silver Moon's pack.
It was Morrison and Gunther's way of washing their hands.
They would leave the girls out to fend for themselves after all the torture they had inflicted on those girls. Not even the rogue king was that cruel. The rogue king undoubtedly had his share of killed mounting to his name, but at least he gave each one a worthy death, not leaving them to suffer a slow, painful death filled with embarrassment and shame.
The king's mentor had taught him well. Every life worthy of a warrior deserved a proper death, and the way Morrison was throwing bodies out to get eaten out in the wild or forgotten was inhumane. It was cowardly. And in his eyes, he would make sure he one day would serve the same fate.
The giggles of the young kids stirred his heart. He didn't want this life; he never asked to become a rogue, to be named the king of rogues, but fate had served him a cold plate, and he learned to deal. One day, he would make sure to have an adequate place for everyone to feel safe. A place where they no longer needed hiding and running when he wasn't around. A place he'd call h0me, and maybe then, he'd be ready if a mate came along.
