The Alpha Assassin

4 - Looking For Me?

F.uck this.

My careful plans were thrown out the window.

I took a breath and stood straight before taking a detour to a place I knew would be deserted and unguarded this time of night—The head Omega’s office in the new wing. I had to check something.

I took my time undressing, waiting until Alice came in. After I got in my nightgown, she helped me brush out my hair.

As soon as she left, I let out a breath I was holding the entire time. I threw back the rug and grabbed what I stashed from the compartment.

This was supposed to be for later. I didn’t want to waste one of my chances yet, but I had to.

Once most of the Omegas had gone to their quarters, I locked my door and changed. I braided my hair as tight as possible to keep it out of my face, hoping it was tight enough that no strands would be left behind.

I waited a bit longer just to be sure everyone was in their rooms before propping open my window that led to a small balcony that was more of a ledge. I never understood ornamental balconies, ones that were more for show than for use, but it worked for my purpose.

I gripped the stone walls and settled myself into a forgotten place I used to go to when I trained—focusing on instincts, on survival above all else. Part of me still remembered it, even if it was a ghost of the place I used to be able to reach during trainings.

I landed on the soft grass, looking back to my window, which barely looked cracked. It was not like it mattered much; I had committed to this now.

I took my position between two hedges in the garden, a focal point I mapped out months before. It was well hidden but had an uninterrupted view of most of the packhouse and the entirety of the glass addition.

The garden was never monitored and was rarely ever guarded. They kept their warriors further out to focus on potential outside threats. My lips curled into a smile at the thought.

I waited until the lights went off in the other rooms one by one. I clenched my fingers and moved my legs to keep my blood flowing. The adrenaline pumping through me kept me warm against the biting cold.

A light flicked back on, and I shifted from foot to foot, ready to move as soon as I saw movement in the hall window.

There were too many windows there, and at night, with the lights on, everything was visible to those outside. They had to know, had to know the vulnerable position it would put them in. But they thought there were no threats that could get to them, no one that could get close to the packhouse without them knowing, without their permission.

They were lulled into a complacency that I was happy to shake them from.

I squinted to confirm that the flash of movement I saw was the person I was looking for. I scanned the short distance between where I stood at the side door that would lead me to the chosen spot.

Satisfied with the quiet blanketing me, I rushed to the door and listened before opening it and slipping in right where the old and new packhouse met. I turned toward the old packhouse, where I knew an alcove was waiting for me, and I let myself sink into the shadows, watching the spot where he would come.

My heart rang through my ears, and I focused on the steady beat to help calm me and ground me in this place. I knew what I had to do, and my body knew the movements; I couldn't overthink it.

Footsteps sounded on the carpeted stairs as he sauntered down, not bothering to be quiet. A man who knew that he was untouchable, a man who would take what he wanted because he thought it was owed to him.

I let him get closer before slipping out and blocking his way. He paused and took a step back, surprised for a second.

“Looking for me?” I took a step forward.

His shock melted into giving me a smirk that told me he thought he got me right where he wanted me. Before he could open his mouth, I closed the distance between us.

With two quick simultaneous movements, a slice to the windpipe and jugular, and he was crumpled beneath me, his blood pooling out on the new white carpet.

He let out one last gush of air, and that smirk was wiped off his face. He would never again turn that smirk on a woman.

I looked down at my blood-splattered hands.

F.uck.

I should have snuck up once he passed me, but I wanted him to know it was me. I wanted to see his face when I did it. Possibly a grave error on my part but not one I could dwell on.

I tucked the knives I stole from the kitchen and sharped this afternoon back into their makeshift sheaths on my belt.

I debated returning them to the kitchen now. I wanted no evidence left, but I couldn’t risk running into anyone like this. I ensured there was no blood on the bottom of my shoes as I slipped away back through where I came from.

The short distance back to my room seemed like miles now. My heart was erratic as I stuck to the side of the house. Almost there, almost to where I could start scaling the wall back to my room.

A muffled scream came from behind me. S.hit. Someone already found him?

I couldn’t scale the wall, couldn’t risk being caught in such an obvious position when the warriors were called —and they probably already were.

I ran the last few steps to the door that I never planned on using and reminded myself to shut it behind me quietly.

Thankfully, this one led directly to the stairs, the winding staircase where my room was just three floors above.

I started walking too slowly. My brain was shouting, but I couldn’t risk going faster while still keeping quiet. This staircase echoed.

I reached the first landing of the ancient stairs and paused for a moment. I knew it would probably be quiet as these were guest rooms, and it was.

I repeated my movements until I got to the next landing. Just one more flight and a hallway separated me from my room.

This time, I heard the rustling of feet, a lot of feet. I wasn't surprised; some of the head warriors stayed on this floor, and they would be the first to be alerted.

I pinned myself against the wall out of sight unless anyone decided to use this stairway. This wasn't the staircase that would be the quickest for them, but if they were smart, they would cover all their bases and not rush to the already dead body.

A few last feet shouting orders ran past the landing. Thankfully, no one turned down this way. Idiots.

I rushed up the stairs quicker, this time to my floor I shared with some of the Omegas.

Their hushed voices sounded louder until I could make them out. Some walked past, and some just seemed to cluster in the hallway. The last thing I needed. A flicker of rage shot through me, but I wasn’t sure why. I clenched my fist, willing them to go back to their rooms. Of course, they didn't.

“We have to go down to support the ranked members.”

“What happened?”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to go.”

They didn't seem to be in any rush to assist their ranked members. Move, move, I pleaded silently, but they didn't listen.

I had no other option; I was already behind on time, and I knew it was mere moments before one of them would come knocking on my door.

I turned around and re-traced my steps as fast as I could to the only window I could squeeze out of between the two floors.

The window groaned and creaked as I forced it open. I hauled myself up and through it after ensuring the outside was clear. Most of the warriors were hopefully distracted with the body for a few minutes more.

That's all I needed: a few minutes.

I closed the window behind me, hanging from the ledge, my muscles burning with the effort. I reached my foot out until I found the purchase of stones that jutted out around the spiraling tower that held the stairs.

I could see my window, my salvation. I grabbed onto the sprawling ivy, but I didn’t trust it to hold. I found some crevices in the old stone and slowly made my way across. One foot found a space. One hand grabbed onto a cracked, solid stone.

Just a few feet up and then a few feet to the left, I was almost there. I paused every few seconds to listen if anyone was coming beneath, not that it would be any use. If I were caught out here, I would be worse than dead.

I finally made it to my small balcony. I laid my cheek against the freezing stone for a split second, cooling down the heat that coursed through me. A second was all I could spare for a moment of relief.

I mustered the last of my remaining strength to pull myself from the ledge through my window. If I lingered any longer and lost any ounce of adrenaline, I wouldn't have the strength.

I landed with a thud, and I froze on the floor, letting my eyes adjust to this new kind of darkness. It was quiet.

I pushed myself off the floor, wasting no time peeling off my drenched clothes. They smelled awful, a mix of his blood and my sweat, but I wouldn't have time for a shower. I threw them in the dying fire; it shot to life at the ammunition. The fire warmed my back as I unwillingly stashed the bloodied knives. I had no time to get rid of them tonight or even clean them.

I splashed my face with water, not daring to even look in the mirror as I went to work scrubbing my hands and face multiple times.

I was stupid to get this much blood on me. It was already dried from the extra time it took me to get back here. I scrubbed my hands raw, fueled with anger at myself.

I finally looked in the mirror to make sure there weren't any lingering drops I missed.

Something about my appearance made me pause. The forgotten glimmer in my eye flickered back to life. I smiled at myself as I pulled my hair from its braid and let it fall around me, checking for any debris stuck in it.

As I pulled on the nightgown I had worn earlier, I glanced at the fire. Thankful that my clothes had already turned to ash, I put another log on top of it, scanning the room another time for anything I missed, anything out of place.

The window. I bounded towards it to close it against the cold before unlocking the door.

The adrenaline and anxiety of tonight mixed with my excitement and relief that it was over. It was addictive; I felt like lightning was coursing through my veins.

I rushed to the bed and tucked myself in, rumpling the sheets. I turned to face the door.

I couldn't help it.

As I lay there, I couldn’t stop the memories of the last time I lay here, in this very bed, this very bed, covered in blood. But last time, I didn’t bother to wash it off for days.