Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Nero had expected the younger alpha to be difficult.

He had not expected the forest to move.

One moment the residence stood perhaps four hundred meters ahead through the trees, its slate roof visible between dark pines and exposed limestone; the next, Nero stepped around a moss-covered boulder and found the slope stretching away from him as though someone had pulled several hundred additional meters of terrain into the space between one breath and the next.

Hale stopped beside him.

”That is annoying.”

Nero smiled.

”Very.”

They had separated from Hunter nearly twenty minutes earlier, moving south around the residence while the security chief continued toward the access road. The air was cold enough that Nero had fastened his black winter coat to the throat, and his long white hair had been tied low at his nape to keep it from catching on branches as they crossed the rough ground. Hale wore dark field clothing beneath his coat, one hand never far from the compact communication unit hidden against his ribs.

Neither of them had spoken much.

They had not needed to.

The younger dominant alpha had been exactly where the surveillance placed him, following the southern perimeter with the easy lack of urgency of a man who did not expect anyone capable of reaching him.

Then his head had turned.

Not toward Nero.

Toward something twenty meters to Nero’s left.

The terrain shifted immediately afterward.

Nero stopped walking.

The trees ahead appeared to lean subtly away from him. The nearest limestone shelf looked close enough to touch while simultaneously seeming several steps farther than it should have been, and when Hale moved around Nero’s right side, his stride seemed wrong—too slow for the distance he crossed.

”Perception,” Hale murmured.

Nero watched the alpha come into view between two pines.

The man was younger than the other guard, perhaps somewhere in his thirties, broad through the chest and shoulders beneath a dark coat. Black hair had been cut short enough not to interfere with his vision, and the knife already in his hand suggested he had reached the same conclusion they had.

Guns were loud.

Knives could remain private.

The alpha looked at Nero for several seconds.

Recognition came first.

Then disbelief.

”Your Highness.”

Nero inclined his head. ”Good morning.”

Hale shifted several meters away, deliberately giving Nero room.

The alpha’s gaze followed him.

The ground seemed to buckle.

Hale abruptly appeared twice as far away as he actually was.

Nero took another step.

His boot landed earlier than his eyes expected.

He laughed.

The alpha frowned.

Nero genuinely could not help it.

”That is clever.”

”You need to leave.”

”No.”

The distortion intensified.

The path behind the alpha appeared to narrow until the trees almost touched, while the open ground to Nero’s right expanded into what looked like a long downward slope. Nero knew neither was real. His body still received enough information from balance, pressure, and scent to tell him where the forest actually was, but sight insisted on something entirely different.

For most people, that contradiction would have been debilitating.

For Nero, it was fun.

The alpha moved first.

His body seemed to travel left.

The knife came from the right.

Nero caught his wrist an instant before the blade reached his ribs.

The man’s surprise was deeply satisfying.

Nero drove his elbow into his chest and forced him backward, but the distance changed again before his next strike. The alpha seemed suddenly three steps away when he was barely one, and Nero’s fist cut through empty air.

The knife flashed toward his throat.

Nero leaned back just enough to avoid it.

”Oh, I like you.”

The alpha stared at him.

Hale, now positioned near the edge of the residence grounds, ignored both of them.

His entire attention remained on the villa.

No movement at the windows.

No ordinary guards running toward them.

No alarm.

That was his job.

Nero had his own.

The alpha attacked again.

Nero let him.

The shifting terrain made the fight far more interesting than brute strength would have been. Distance shortened without warning. Direction became unreliable. Once, Nero stepped toward what appeared to be clear ground and struck a tree trunk hard enough with his shoulder to make needles rain down around him.

He laughed again.

”You are enjoying this,” the alpha said, breathing harder now.

”Immensely.”

”That is disturbing.”

Nero smiled and came at him.

The man warped the distance between them.

Nero stopped trusting his eyes.

He watched shoulders instead.

Hips.

Weight.

The pressure of boots against wet ground.

A knife could appear to come from a meter farther away, but the body wielding it still had to transfer weight before striking.

Once Nero understood that, the ability became less dangerous.

The alpha realized it too.

His movements became faster and less experimental, knife turning in his grip before he drove it toward Nero’s abdomen.

Nero caught his forearm, twisted, and slammed him against a limestone outcrop.

The man drove a knee upward.

Nero took the impact against his thigh and answered by striking him beneath the ribs hard enough to empty his lungs.

The distortion around them wavered.

For one moment the forest returned to normal.

Nero saw the actual distance between them.

Less than half a meter.

He smiled.

The alpha looked considerably less pleased.

Nero hit him again.

The man’s head struck stone.

Blood appeared along his temple.

The alpha tore free and slashed across Nero’s coat, opening the heavy black fabric near his waist without reaching skin. Nero caught the knife hand on the return, drove his own blade into the man’s shoulder, then pulled it free before the alpha could trap him against the rock.

The forest stretched wildly around them.

Nero’s vision told him Hale was fifty meters away.

His other senses told him perhaps fifteen.

Hale lifted two fingers.

Still no alarm.

Nero turned back just as the alpha attacked.

This time Nero stopped playing.

He stepped inside the strike, caught the man at the elbow and throat, and drove him hard into the ground.

Wet leaves scattered beneath them.

The alpha tried to twist free.

Nero pinned his knife hand beneath one knee.

The terrain fractured around them—trees moving, sky tilting, distance opening and collapsing so violently that an ordinary person might have vomited.

Nero simply tightened his grip.

The alpha’s face changed.

He finally understood that whatever Nero was, the usual hierarchy did not explain it.

Nero could feel the man’s pheromones pressing against him, powerful enough to dominate almost any alpha he had ever met.

They meant absolutely nothing.

He considered killing him.

It would be easy now.

Arion had probably already dealt with the older man, and removing both guards would leave Hunter free to secure the residence.

Nero lowered his knife toward the alpha’s neck.

The man stopped struggling.

”Wait.”

Nero paused.

Hale glanced toward them but remained where he was.

The alpha swallowed carefully against the blade.

”If you kill me, you gain nothing.”

”I gain a quieter morning.”

Despite the blood running down his temple, the man almost smiled.

”Spare me.”

Nero raised an eyebrow.

”And why would I do that?”

”My loyalty.”

That was unexpected enough to interest him.

Nero eased the knife back perhaps a centimeter.

”You are offering loyalty rather quickly.”

”I am offering it to the man who beat me.”

”That is a questionable basis for employment.”

”You came here knowing what I was and fought me anyway.”

”I enjoy fighting.”

”I noticed.”

Nero smiled.

The alpha continued, more carefully now.

”My name is Duncan. Duncan Crone. Spare me, and I work for you. Not Draxil. Not whoever sent me here. You.”

Nero studied him.

Hale finally spoke from several meters away.

”Nero.”

A warning.

Probably an extremely sensible one.

Nero had never considered sensible decisions particularly sacred.

He looked down at Duncan.

”You understand that if you betray me, this conversation becomes considerably shorter the second time.”

”Yes.”

”And I am not promising you anything except continued breathing.”

”That will do.”

Nero considered killing him for another two seconds.

Then he removed the knife from his throat and stood.

Hale closed his eyes briefly.

Duncan stared up at Nero, apparently uncertain whether he had correctly understood what had just happened.

Nero extended one gloved hand.

”Get up, Duncan.”

The dominant alpha took it.

Somewhere beyond the trees, the residence remained silent.

Nero smiled.

This morning had just become considerably more interesting.