Hours later, I’d been washed, shaved, and anointed with several different kinds of fragrant oils. My hair had been trimmed and styled carefully. My face had been painted with rouge and powders, giving me a soft glow that I’d never experienced before. By the time the stylists were through with me, I felt like a new woman. My blonde hair shone so brightly that it was nearly white. The colors around my eyes played up my icy blue irises, the ones I’d inherited from my father.
The Ghost. The leader of the Alpha Brotherhood. The man who sent me here to Kingsworth with the sole mission of infiltrating and identifying members of the Cult.
I tried to talk to the servants assisting me, but they shook their heads. I continued trying to ask questions, and one of them finally tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head and watched as she opened her mouth.
A cold chill of shock raced down my spine.
The Cult had cut out her tongue. I hadn’t known.
I swallowed heavily and apologized profusely. She shook her head and smiled softly, silently telling me that I hadn’t offended her. I didn’t ask any more questions after that.
When I was finally ready, the woman brought me a silky dress that she wrapped around my body. It was the same color blue as my eyes, and I felt rather ethereal in it as she tied it around my waist. She knelt down and slipped a pair of dark blue ballet flats onto my feet. Finally, she opened a velvet box and took out a silver necklace. With a soft sigh, she stood behind me and clasped it around my neck.
I looked back in the mirror, studying the way the glimmering icy blue stone caught the light. I looked like a princess. Any other woman would have been happy to be primped and prodded like this, but I felt like I was being prepared for slaughter.
Maybe I was.
The Cult had taken me and now they were preparing me for my buyer. From what we knew about the Cult, omegas were prepared in batches and auctioned off to a number of alpha men. I’d never heard of a single woman being taken like this and my guard was raised because of it.
Whatever was coming for me, I would be ready. I thanked the servants that had readied me and bowed my head in deference. They smiled back at me and I heard the door open behind me. Their grins faltered and they rushed back to work. I turned my head and took in three masked figures. The masks were simple, painted black wood indicative of the Cult of the Blood Moon. These three had a few decorative elements though, the most obvious being the dark red ruby in the middle of the mask’s forehead, as well as white war paint on the cheeks and around the gemstone. The fabric of their robes was elegant and likely very expensive as well.
These three were important and they’d come to retrieve me.
They kept a triangular formation as they approached me. I noted one had green eyes, one had brown eyes, and the one at the center had two different colored irises, one blue and the other brown. As they walked, I tried to discern anything unique about their gaits because I couldn’t see their faces. The one with brown eyes rolled his right ankle. I’d have to watch that one even more closely.
“She sure cleans up beautifully. She’ll be a worthy gift,” the man with the multicolored eyes murmured. He stood at the center of the configuration, leading me to believe that he was likely the leader.
“Dinner will begin soon. We should hurry this along,” green eyes offered.
“He will certainly be pleased. If his new rank doesn’t make him happy, this pretty omega certainly will,” brown eyes declared.
“Indeed,” the center man replied. “Come now, it’s time. You will follow us.”
They turned to walk out of the room, and I did as I was told. For a moment, I fought with the instinct to run. I knew better though. I was at the center of a Cult stronghold. If I tried to escape, it wouldn’t be long before I was caught and running wasn’t what I was sent here to do. I was here to learn, to observe, and to gather as much information about the enemy as I could.
So, I followed. I didn’t know if I was walking to my death or into the cruel hands of one of the top members of the Cult. I observed my surroundings as I walked, taking in the opulence and luxury all around me. From the handwoven carpets beneath my feet to the intricately embroidered tapestries on the walls and windows, everything screamed ancient wealth. Some of the curtains were drawn, but a few were open, allowing the sunlight to stream in. When we passed one, I deliberately slowed my steps to take in the view.
Kingsworth spread out all around us for miles. It appeared we were at the center of the city and as I studied the lands a bit more closely, I realized that I could only be in one place.
I was in one of the upper towers of the castle.
The cultist with brown eyes turned back.
“Don’t dawdle, omega,” he warned. He turned away briskly and that’s when I noticed something very particular about the way he walked. It was as if he was hiding a limp. I watched him more closely as I picked up my pace, noticing that on occasion that he forgot to conceal whatever old injury it was. Beneath the robes, he was hiding an injured left knee.
The other two didn’t show any distinctive traits that I could tell other than the color of their eyes.
They led me into a grand room, and at once I was taken with the thick fur carpets. I lifted my eyes to peruse the fine oil paintings along the walls depicting warriors on the battlefield and royalty in fancy robes, and that’s when a man cleared his throat.
At the center of the room was a menacing throne built of what appeared to be human bones and gigantic ivory elephant tusks. It was a terrifying sight, but not nearly as scary as the man standing next to it.
He was the biggest man I’d ever seen. I didn’t even have to scent the air to tell that he was an alpha. Instead, his aroma called to me. Without warning, my heart beat harder and the blood pumping through my veins rushed even faster. I swallowed, trying to rein in my body’s response as much as I could.
Forest green irises bored into mine, capturing me in their intensity and holding me captive. I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried. His jawline tensed and I took note of the thick beard covering his face. His hair was dark chocolate and tied back in a ponytail. The sides of his scalp were shaved bare, revealing dark black tattoos that signified the mark of a battle-hardened warrior. There was a series of black notches that disappeared underneath the heavy furs around his shoulders, marks that signified every man that he’d killed himself.
I recognized the pelts he wore on his thick, muscled frame. They originated from far north, fearsome wolves large enough to eat a man whole. Once men, they were rumored to have once shifted under the light of the moon and never returned to their human form. Their furs were exceedingly rare. Many men died trying to claim the riches that came with the sale of one. This man was wearing several whole ones himself.
I swallowed heavily, fearing him already. H