The rejected bond of Alpha Marcus

Munera

Marcus POV

Marcus had never seen Miranda look so disheveled. The normally meticulously dressed woman, looked as though she’d just come from her bed as well. As though she hadn’t been informed of the new schedule.

She brushed a hand through her tousled hair, trying to smooth it out.

In his peripheral vision, Marcus noticed a figure stepping down from the stands. It was Alistair, who walked up to Miranda, giving Marcus a chance to spare a glance at Sarah.

Their eyes met and Marcus could see that something was very wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus mouthed, but Sarah just shook her head, her eyes darting to Alistair. When Marcus followed her gaze, he was met with two angry cold blue orbs, staring at him. The way the corners of his mouth quirked up into a malicious grin didn’t sit well with him. The way he leaned into Miranda to whisper something in her ear didn’t bode well either.

“Make the announcement,” Alistair grated, gripping Miranda’s forearm. The woman visibly flinched. Marcus’ jaw clenched. The only thing he hated more than a traitor was a woman beater. Just when he stepped forward, Miranda started speaking into the camera drone, with the fake smile she’d mastered to perfection.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce you to…. our new King. He’s well known around the Kingdom, adored by many… it is my pleasure to introduce to you… Alistair Abercrombie.”

A cheer broke out from the stands. Marcus’ head whipped to the source. He hadn’t noticed the crowd that had gathered. He noticed a few people from the church service he’d had to attend the other day. They must be pack members, but what were they doing out here in the middle of the night?

“Long live the King!”

“We love you, King Alistair!”

These were just a few of the chants Marcus could hear through the enthusiastic clapping and cheering. He wondered if the old King, Sarah’s father, had died. But how would that make Alistair the King? The only way to become King was through birth or marriage, and as far as he knew, Alistair hadn’t done either.

“Our handsome King,” Marcus swore he saw Miranda swallow a gag, “has decided to spice things up. The trials will be more exciting, more dangerous, and more entertaining.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first challenge will take you back into history, to a time when people valued games more than anything. Where food was scarce and entertainment was highly valued. To a time when emperors spoke the famous words ‘bread and games’.” Miranda dramatically spoke, reading the words off of a teleprompter.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the first challenge of the new trials… a Munera, better known as the gladiator games… We will split the remaining Alpha’s up into two teams. And they will fight each other… “ Miranda’s professional smile faltered for a second before she regained her composure, “They will fight until one Alpha on each team is… dead.”

Gasps could be heard among the crowd. Marcus and the other Alphas shared uneasy looks.

“What the hell?! You can’t make us kill each other!?” A furious-looking man, Marcus recognized as Ricardo Vallejos from a Spanish pack, spoke up.

“Why not?” Alistair let out a dark chuckle. He looked over at Miranda, making a hand gesture, asking her to stop recording. “You don’t want your darling sister, Lucia, to pay for your unwillingness, do you? I mean, you did sign a contract when you arrived giving us permission to do whatever we like.” His smile grew, as he watched the realization dawn on the Alpha's faces around him.

Marus had read his contract thoroughly, though he’d had to sign his during the negotiation to get Christian out of jail to help save his sister. But that was NOT in his contract. He was sure of it. It made him curious as to what the other Alphas had agreed to.

The look of defeat on Ricardo’s face struck a chord within him. He frantically thought of ways to get them out of their predicament, but he could think of none.

“When I call your names, please step forward,” Miranda spoke softly, as the cameras switched back on. Marcus could see the helplessness in the woman’s eyes, but she, along with the rest of them, didn’t seem to have a choice.

The men were quickly separated into two groups of six Alphas. Marcus was in a group with Elijah, Christian, Ricardo, an Italian Alpha and one of the two remaining Scottish Alphas.

They were given the typical Gladiator armor Marcus recognized from the movies he’d seen. It had been entertaining at the time, but now that he was the one about to go into the arena, his whole idea of the movie was changing.

Marcus lifted his shirt over his head and put on the armor. If his inkling was right, they were going to need it. He saw many following his example. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. He needed to stay calm. He focused on the cold armor touching his skin, the sound of the chatter of the crowd around him, the smell of impending doom in the air…

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the Alpha’s units were led toward the stands, where the men reluctantly took a seat. But what choice did they have? They were outnumbered, even with their units. Outnumbered five to one. Alistair had come prepared. The arena was surrounded by warriors dressed up in full body armor. The chances of them all getting killed if push came to shove were too big.

“Gentlemen, you may enter the arena. Each team will walk to one side,” Miranda spoke loudly, pointing to where the men were expected to stand. “When the King gives the signal to begin, you may each run towards a weapon of choice. But remember, in the arena, there are no rules other than no shifting.” Miranda spoke, before adding softly, “Good luck,”

Marcus met her gaze, and what he saw there was genuine concern. He nodded at her, giving her a tight smile, before following the other Alphas.

Each team walked to the opposite side of the arena, their footfalls amplified in the wet mud. As they waited for the start signal, Marcus’ eyes scanned the battleground. He could already see a few swords nearby as well as an axe and a flail. He also noticed a few shields scattered around.

He whispered the information to his team, making sure that they all had a weapon to begin with.

“No one is dying here tonight,” Marcus spoke in a hushed voice, trying to calm the nerves of the men.

“BEGIN!” Alistair called loudly, taking the men by surprise. They all raced toward their weapon of choice. As Marcus neared the sword he’d decided on, Julian was already storming towards him, with his own sword at the ready. Marcus lunged forward, somersaulting to dodge Julian’s weapon before picking up his own.

Mud leaked down the side of his face as he and Julian’s swords clashed loudly. It was a fight of equals. Marcus cursed under his breath. He needed to get back to his team. They needed to stay together. He chanced a glance at the fights going on around him. It was one on one for each of them but he could see Elijah struggling.

With one swift move, he kicked Julian in the chest, forcing him back before he sprinted off in Elija's direction. One of the other Alpha’s was leaning onto him, while Elijah lay on the muddy ground, trying to fend off the sword that was choking him.

Marcus kicked the Alpha in the chest, causing him to barrel into the ground. He reached for Elijah, and pulled him to his feet, before calling to his teammates.

“Let's get in formation! We fight as one!” He shouted. The men quickly formed a tight circle, their backs together, their weapons pointing forward. They all had each other’s back.

Marcus could see the grin falter from Alistair’s face as he and the men on his team fought off the others with ease.

“Boring!” He suddenly shouted with a sneer, before his evil grin returned.

“Bring out the beasts!”