Of course, the beta didn’t.
The position of the beta blocked Koda, but the beta relaxed in the way they would when released from Koda’s will. The beta shook his head and pulled back, only to rock forward again, remaining in front of Koda with his head down.
With choreographed perfection, all the other betas except the one in front of Koda collapsed. Puppets with cut strings.
Reese rewound the recording. He paused it milliseconds before they dropped. He played it again. Shadows twitched on the ground at their feet just as they fell.
Again.
No, not shadows, strands. Strands of ichor. They raced to Koda and disappeared.
Reese paused it again and sat back.
They’d always theorized an Alpha could recall a death he’d gifted, but they’d never put it to the test because they’d never known how to get the Alpha to do it.
They no more wanted to kill their betas than the betas wanted to harm their Alphas.
So why would Koda kill them now?
Reese continued the recording. Seconds passed, and the remaining beta continued to shake his head. His shoulders jerked, he tried again to pull away, but it was clear Koda wouldn’t let him. Then Koda slid his hands over the beta’s shoulders and to his jaw. For a moment Koda’s face appeared as he put his lips close to the beta’s ear. Reese watched the words form on Koda’s lips, unsure what he said. Then Koda placed a kiss on the beta’s cheek and stepped back.
Reese was about to replay the scene when the beta lunged, the movement so violent Reese jerked back. Blood sprayed in shades of gray across the floor and outer cell wall. Even in death, Koda fell with grace, bleeding out at the beta’s feet while he watched.
The beta stayed there for the longest time.
Reese slowed the playback to a frame per second. The beta shifted his weight, rolled his shoulders, and turned. Blood coated the man’s chin and chest. A look of feral rage painted his features, but none of those things could hide the details of his face.
Reese stopped the player, still not willing to believe who he saw.
Nash Kelli.
Koda’s first.
*****
The steady thump of Nox’s heartbeat lulled Luca into a false comfort. It could only be false. Everything else he knew was.
His reality had shattered, leaving behind a terrifying place he did not want to be.
But he was there. Trapped. Unable to escape.
He’d been honest when he told Nox he wasn’t afraid of him. And while that fact disturbed Luca, what confused him more was the ever-growing sense of familiarity stirring when Nox was close. How touching him brought comfort. How breathing him in filled Luca with purpose.
Even as the monster, that terrible creature, its voice obliterating the night, claws gleaming, teeth flashing, Nox would never harm him.
Unstable or not.
Nox couldn’t.
A fact Luca knew was true, he just didn’t know how.
But it didn’t make processing what he’d seen any easier. Because creatures like the ones chasing him, the one Nox had turned into, couldn’t exist outside of horror stories.
Streaks of morning sun traced the horizon, and the darkness hanging over the rest of the sky tightened its grip. The trickle of light revealed dust and mold coating the old leather upholstery inside the car.
Luca sat up. Bird droppings and pollen almost erased his view of the motel. There were only a few people on the sidewalk now. A police cruiser and two officers acted as a barrier between the onlookers and crime scene tape. Beyond that, yellow paper sheets formed mounds in the shadows. People in white jumpsuits circled them, lifting white tarps up on poled legs.
“How’s it look?” Nox’s words rumbled in his chest, caressing Luca’s insides.