ALPHA KING RAGAL POV

At the Warehouse

I sat on the opposite chair under a dim light. A man was strapped tightly to a chair across from me, his mouth sealed with tape.

His fingers dripped blood onto the cold concrete floor. My wolf, Leo, growled with satisfaction. He had always loved the metallic scent of blood—it fed his inner hunger, satisfied his darker urges.

Carefully, I peeled the tape off my captive’s lips. Sweat drenched his forehead, his skin pale from blood loss. I wasn’t about to let him die—not yet.

My Beta, Morgan, rushed outside. The smell of blood always made him gag like a weak child.

I groaned. The only reason I kept him around was his usefulness in investigation. He was good with evidence, not torture.

“Tell me,” my voice deepened, thick with danger, “who keeps reopening those damn clubs?”

“I swear—I don’t know!” the werewolf shivered, eyes darting toward the knife I twirled lazily in front of him.

I sighed. “You’re making this hard for me. If you won’t talk, then you can’t leave…” I paused, eyes glinting with mischief. “…alive.”

“Really?” His eyes widened, desperation flashing in them as he stared at the keys to his shackles dangling from my hand.

“Yes.” I grinned.

He hesitated, trying to read whether I was serious or not.

“Your time starts now,” I said, dropping the keys into his lap—a cruel taste of freedom. “On the count of five. I’ll take them back if you don’t decide.”

“One… two… three…” I counted on my fingers, watching his panic bloom.

“Okay! Okay!” he panted, trembling. “There’s a club and a hotel that open at night.”

“Go on.” I smiled, the kind that promised no mercy.

“He… he opens the club, and we take some girls and f-fu—” He stopped short under my glare, choking on the rest of the word.

“Should I milk you more?” I drawled, gripping one of his bloody fingers.

“No! Please!” he screamed.

“I need a name.” My hand tightened around his finger.

“It’s Alpha Raphael… of the Blood Moon Pack,” he said with effort.

“Thank you.” I smiled darkly. I had always suspected that cunning snake. Raphael’s name had been whispered in too many shadows. Now, I had confirmation—and tonight, my informant would bring the evidence I needed.

“Please, let me go.” His pitiful voice made my skin crawl.

I threw the key at him. “Only if you can catch it.”

The key clattered to the ground. I gasped in mock surprise. “Oops. You can’t.” I covered my mouth theatrically, the knife gleaming in the light.

“Don’t kill me! I can help you!” he screamed, but the blade had already sunk into his throat. Blood spurted, pooling beneath his chair.

I’d be damned if I let a rapist walk free. I didn’t trust anyone—so why would I trust him?

*Yes, yes… kill him. Feed us,* the shadowed voices hissed in my mind for the first time tonight. My skull pulsed, the pressure unbearable.

Quickly, I pulled a small vial from my breast pocket and drank. The voices quieted, retreating into the darkness of my mind. They loved it when I killed. The more blood I spilled, the louder they grew.

Losing control over both Leo and the voices made me cold.

“Morgan!” My roar echoed through the building, fueled by frustration. What kind of Beta was he?

He came rushing in, face pale, eyes wide at the sight of the corpse.

“Prepare the car,” I ordered. “And call one of the men to clean this up.”

He nodded stiffly, unable to look away from the blood.

“We’re going to the Blood Moon Pack’s elite hotel,” I said, striding toward the car parked outside. I had no time for pleasure or love. My loyalty was to my rule—to my packs.

It didn’t matter how many I killed or how many voices haunted my head. Order would reign under my command.

And I ruled with fear.

Morgan started the car with trembling hands as we drove into the night to meet my informant.

With this evidence, I would finally have what I needed to bring down Alpha Raphael of the Blood Moon Pack.

I couldn’t act without proof—my own law bound me—and that infuriated me.

“Raphael,” I muttered, my voice low and sharp, “I’m coming for you.”