Black Moon (Alpha Pack #3)(62)

Death and destruction. Why did that sound so inviting?

This isn't me. But I can't stop him. Don't know how.

Oh, how he longed to kill.

But can I do it, when the time comes?

"Would you like to practice?"

He blinked at Malik. "What?"

"Trust me. I'll create an avatar for you to practice on." With a wave of his hand, the Unseelie chanted a few words in a language Kalen had never heard before. In moments, a whirl of energy whipped round and round in the living room and slowly formed into a familiar figure.

"Sariel?" he whispered.

In the middle of the room, the prince stood blinking in confusion, uncertain of where he was or what was going on, it seemed. The Fae looked to Malik and then Kalen, fear blooming on his face.

"Why am I here?" the prince asked.

"You were supposed to create an avatar, not bring someone here for real!" Kalen said.

"This is an avatar." Malik shook his head. "If it were that easy to bring my wayward first son here and kill him, I would've done that long ago."

"As if you could ever kill me," Sariel's image sneered. "You're pathetic, both of you."

With that, Kalen let the darkness loose. He shot a bolt of white energy at the blue-haired, blue-winged figure. The bolt hit him square in the chest and he went down.

Kalen pounced, but the prince rolled away, proving to be a more agile target than he'd thought. He went after the fleeing form, tackling the Seelie before he got halfway across the room. A fragile bone in one of the wings snapped and the prince shouted in pain. One tiny drop of blood, and the lust for the kill was ignited.

He let his panther loose and pinned the faery as he would a deer, going for the throat. Just before he struck, the prince turned wide, stricken eyes toward him and whispered, "Brother."

But it was too late to stop the panther. His jaws closed over the vulnerable throat like a steel trap and crushed. Slowly. Flesh, muscle, and bone gave way to his superior strength. The weak feeds the strong. The prince's cries were strangled, then silenced, but his body continued to fight.

"That's it, Kalen," his father rasped, his voice thick. "Now feel his life force with your magic and drink it in like fine Cognac. Take it all."

Reaching out with his magic, he did just that. He followed the tendril of life to its source and began to breathe it inside himself. At the same time, he drank. Slurped the blood of his victim and began to feed at his neck, tearing the tender meat. So good. So f**king fantastic. He could come from this, feeding and glutting-

And suddenly the body beneath him was gone. It simply vanished into thin air. There was no blood anywhere. Not on himself or the floor. He turned back to human form and scowled. Where had his prey disappeared to?

"I'd say you got the hang of that rather quickly."

"It really was an avatar?"

"Yes. As I said, the real Sariel has been much harder to catch."

Kalen shuddered. He'd known, deep down, the avatar wasn't real and said a silent thanks for it. But he'd still reveled in the act of killing. Could he do it next time, for real?

"You can do it," his father said, as if reading his thoughts. "I would not have chosen you to rule at my side if you did not possess the strength."

"Thank you, . . . Father."

Malik smiled, his expression one of triumph. "You will not let me down."

"No, sir."

"Go, boy. Do what I told you. Kill Sariel and one other, and then wait for my command to lower the wards."

"Nick will execute me as soon as I make a move to harm anyone there."

"If he apprehends you, he'll have you locked up first. That will be his downfall-the hope that he can still save you. Remember, when the time comes, embrace the great Sorcerer you were meant to be. Now go."

The farther he got from Malik's cabin, the more his returning awareness weighted him down. The end was near. He knew the Pack would never allow him to go rogue. Any more than he could allow himself to follow through with his raw, bestial urge to destroy.

One way or another, very soon, Kalen was going to die.

Chapter Thirteen

Mac cried until her dad threatened to fetch Melina or Noah and give her something to make her sleep, pregnancy or not.

His anger over her blatant stupidity had lasted all of three minutes. Just long enough to discern that she hadn't intended to deceive Kalen at all. And she damned sure hadn't meant to endanger her baby-his grandbaby. But that wasn't the only issue.

The general paced while Mac watched him through swollen, bleary eyes. "He acted like you were keeping something else from him. That's what he said. Are you sure you don't know what the hell he was talking about?"

"No, I don't- Oh, no. The nightmare!"

Her dad stopped pacing. "What nightmare?"

"The one I had recently." She wrung her hands on her lap. "I thought-I hoped-it was just a bad dream. In it Malik told me that the baby I carried was his grandson. That Kalen was his son and that he had plans for us. I was so scared. But when I woke up, I couldn't imagine the dream was real."

"Or if it was, that it could possibly be true. Malik is such a goddamned mealymouthed liar," her dad surmised.

"Exactly! I actually planned on telling Kalen, but the creep must've beaten me to it. There just never seemed to be a good time."