Page 67 of Alpha Hunger

“You’re insane. Regardless, a Regha male willing to kill Omegas is not worthy of a throne. You can never move your people the way the prince has moved them. He gave them hope. You give them only death.”

“So be it,” the male says.

The guards push the throne.

Plummeting toward ground, I scream at the top of my lungs.

The fall stops, the back of my head hitting iron. I swing from the building. Oh God, I can’t look down. Gazing up, I see a male’s hand. Long red claws scrape the iron of the throne. The hand is attached to a male I barely recognize as my prince. He’s covered in deep dark red armor, and his wild black eyes bear down on me.

He’s hanging on to a rope, all his muscles straining, teeth bared, venom dripping down his chin. I hear buzzing sounds. The Swarm males are crawling up the side of the building. They’re gonna get us. There’re at least two dozen of them.

I close my eyes. I’ve never really been the praying type, but I recite all the verses I remember. I’m sure I’m getting it all wrong, and asking God for a favor isn’t ideal when I haven’t gone to church since my cousin Ginger’s christening.

A hand wraps around my ankle. I snap my eyes open. A Swarm male has latched on to me, and he’s climbing the throne. My legs jerk to kick him, but they’re tied and I can’t move. “Raven!” I scream.

We bounce off the building, swinging forward then back, crashing through the windows. I tuck my chin against my chest and close my eyes. The throne slides on the marble floor, and I grit my teeth. The metal hits the wall, sending my head back, whacking it against the iron. Cuts from shattered glass sting my arms. I look up to see the Swarm male slide off the edge.

Raven dangles from the window, seemingly observing the courtyard. His armor is so dark, it’s almost black. He hops onto the floor, walks to me, rips the ropes from my wrists and ankles, rests his huge hands on the armrests, and presses his forehead against mine, his face a mask of both terror and something primal. The rattle coming from his chest is not a purr.

I should be scared.

I grab his face and lean in to peck his lips.

Raven pushes the throne away from the window and into the corner. I remember the Swarm males crawling up the building. They’ll come here. They want to kill us. I want to run, but I can’t leave Raven, and I don’t think my legs would carry me anyway. I’ve never been more afraid in my life. I pull my knees up to my chest.

Next to me, Raven sticks two fingers into his mouth and whistles. Junior stalks from the shadows. Loyette follows him. Both have their heads low, eyes wide, all scales raised, tails up and pointing like scorpions ready to strike. They pace before me, eyes on the broken window.

A clawed hand grips the edge, and a Swarm male swings his body inside. More follow. Raven stands there as enemies pile inside. Why are we not running?

“Fifty-four,” Raven says. “Note the number, Omega.” He cracks his neck. The Swarm line up and rattle as one.

Raven matches their rattle.

It’s a Horde tune and puts a smile on his face. This tells me he might’ve lost his mind too. It’s crazy town up here, and I inch toward Loyette.

“Stay,” Raven says.

“Okay, no problem.”

He addresses the males in Rahkan, waits, but nobody replies. “They all look the same,” he says. “Only minor differences. How is this possible?”

“They’re made in labs.”

“Save me a live one for genetics,” comes from behind the males. Dreikx’s pod hovers in the air. “If you hand me the Omega, you can catch their daddy before he flees and gets lost to us forever.”

“The Omega is mine!” Raven leaps for the males.

As one, they rattle out a battle cry and meet him halfway in the air. The males take him down. They’re agile, crawling all over each other to get to him. I stand on the throne. I can’t watch the bloodbath, and I can’t turn away. Loyette paces before me. One male at the top of the body pile stands and leaps for me. Junior jumps, and his jaws close over the male’s groin. The male screams, and Junior rips into him. I cover my ears and watch Junior throw his head back, chew, and swallow.

My stomach rises.

I can’t look away.

Junior is back at the male, circling, waiting for something. It happens. The weakened male retracts his armor, and Junior is there for the meal. I thought the hounds only consumed humans. I was wrong.

The males on top of Raven shout. I can’t tell if he’s alive or dead. I bite my fingernail.

“We used to call him Boy with Armor,” a male says.

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