Rise of the Dark Alpha

~ ZEV ~

Half an hour later, Zev stood at the foot of the oddly named Square—the deep amphitheater the ancients had made for gatherings of the City's population. It had been named by a Chimera mostly ignorant of geometry. Squares were the center of a City, its heartbeat. And so the amphitheater was for the Chimeran City. In this space Chimeran history had been made. Kings had been crowned, Kings had been dethroned. Here the future of their people had been determined more than once. Here, conflicts had ended in blood, and in harmony. So it was appropriate that they gathered here today. Because he was going to ask them to put aside their pains and wounds and walk into healing with him—and with Sasha.

When he'd walked over the lip of the massive bowl and started down towards its center he'd relived the moment when Sasha first saw this place. Her awe, her joy, her overwhelming sense that the Chimera had been so much bigger than they were now.

His heart ached to have her there, and to show her what he would do to bring her back to a healthy home, and just because he needed her. He needed her to see what they could build. Her entire introduction to the Chimera had been full of pain and uncertainty. He needed her to see the good in their people—and to understand how they needed her as much as she needed them.

And him.

His heart pounded, that hollow space where she should have been still hurting because of her lack. Adrenalin shot through him at the idea of what might happen next time if he was forced to leave her, or she him, to cross the gateway again.

Was it possible that the soulbond had a deeper, a more dangerous connection than they'd known? Were the warnings about death more than simply the loss of a mate when one was taken? Was it possible the bond could kill them if it was breached too many times?

Zev was already sheened in sweat, his weakened body jangling with adrenalin. The idea that he might actually kill Sasha by crossing the gateway away from her made him tremble with anxiety.

But he couldn't focus on that just then. He had to fix this shitshow first.

Turning back to the Alphas, he met eyes with each one. They'd held a hurried conclave in which he bristled with Alpha authority, demanding that each of them either submit or challenge him, so they could meet this disruption united.

He'd wondered for a moment if Gheet, the burly Alpha of the goats was going to try to take him. The males eyes had measured him from head to toe. Zev hadn't shrunk under the scrutiny. Let the male come, he'd defeat him, or die trying. He was done being cautious.

In the end, Kyelle had been first to offer her clan, but even Gheet had submitted.

Zev had nodded and laid out his plan to all of them: He would address the Chimera, acknowledge the disruption and uncertainty, establish the hierarchy, invite challenge and then—if there were no challenges, or those challenges were won—he would choose the positions of the clans in the city, remind them of the rules of harmony, and send them to do their parts to make this transition work.

He prayed that was all that was needed—a firm hand and certainty about their purpose. But he couldn't deny that even he wondered. Until they had Sasha back, and understood what she'd been doing with the humans, no hearts were going to rest. Least of all, his.

The horn was blown, rising mournfully over the crowd as the last of the Chimera filed into the amphitheater. Beside and behind him the Alphas shifted on their feet, watching their people gather. The wolves would be talking through their links. Zev almost scratched at Lhars' mind, but he wasn't feeling certain enough of himself yet.

He had to find his own strength before he could expect to offer it to anyone else.

So as the final horn blew and the cry of it echoed across the trees, Zev closed his eyes and set his mind on his mate, on the picture of the life they would lead here without the humans, and on the future of the Chimera—young, families, tribes. Harmony.

He remembered his failings, acknowledging them, letting them to go to the wind. Because the only power to be found in them was to understand where he'd been weak or failed, and then to avoid making the same misjudgments in future.

He reminded himself of the battles he'd won, of all the ways he knew more, understood more, and had endured more than most of these males.

And he reminded himself of the adoration in his mate's eyes. Of the way their bond brimmed with love and heat. Of the way she gave herself to him, with abandon, and the insanity of his desire for her. He reminded himself that no matter how he might fail, she would stand beside him. And that no matter what she might face, he would stand at her back and make himself her shield.

Together, they could do this.

By the time Lhars—as his second—had called the crowd to silence, Zev was brimming with the certainty of his Alpha authority. He knew his goal, he knew his power, and damned if these frightened children were going to make him question it.

He raised his head and scanned the crowds on every side, above and around him. As his eyes passed over them, the last of the hushed murmurs ceased. Zev nodded. That was as it should be.

"Chimera!" he called, giving his voice power, but trusting the acoustics of the amphitheater to ensure it reached every set of ears. "Silence! Perk your ears to your Alpha! We ride the winds of change and your hearts are fickle. Hear me… because we will leave this audience united in harmony, or at pain of war.. The choice will be yours."