Chapter 2. Rhysand

In the crushing of Lycanthrope foundations not a single corpse was found. Medusa made sure to leave absolutely no survivors.

Survivor – it wasn’t even the word which they would be associated with if the Rogue King had his hands on them. The methods of torture would be tested on their numb bodies and that would be too much for her heart to bear.

Bloodbath was their extreme desire, a flame so herculean that sometimes they ravaged one another to quench the sick thirst.

They hunted for mates, to get their brutal hand on a woman whom they can call theirs but it seemed like moon Goddess Persephone was watching over them and so she made sure they never got one.

Medusa was said to be a gracious gift from the goddess herself, her destiny written from the golden ink is said to change the course of fate.

A prophecy was made when Medusa was born – either her choice would make the saplings of humanity to be planted deep in mortal realm or it would totally eradicate it from the roots.

As she grew up her eyes cried for the cruelty in the world and heart was devastated that she couldn’t do anything other than give a peaceful sleep of demise.

Each second felt like eternity and each breath felt like a burden, the girl born with silver silk hair and the most beautiful lilac eyes was just existing.

Her prayers were composed of her death and ultimate wish that the Alpha King of Lycanthrope kill her father.

The Rogue King is stronger than her but the time will come when his powers would die out like ambers in a flame and that day Medusa would strike.

She was suicidal and it wasn’t a secret to the rogues. The horrific screams of people in anguish when they saw her beautiful hair turning into white snakes, capturing their soul which turned their body into stone was horrendous.

Anguish did that to her, whenever her extreme emotion ruled the snakes would make their presence seen taking the place of silver hair.

The sight was so magnificent and powerful that it would make any one turn into stone but one – her father. He was immune to her powers, but unfortunately he wasn’t immune to her strength.

Three more moons and she would rebel against him.

***

A man was on his knees, his head bowed down as silver whips lashed his back – an entertainment for rogues.

They were starving for hurting a soul for so long.

Crushing a person, destroying its life essence brought them a pleasure so twisted and horrific that even the creatures of the night whimpered when they saw them.

In eight years it is the first time Medusa had failed…she left one person for their sick pleasure. He was found hiding in an underground barricade when the army of rogues had finished their raid.

“Who are you, mutt?”

“O-omega o-of t-the pack.”

Lucien clenched his fist when the rogue King and his cruel inhumane followers laughed at the omega’s stuttering.

They kept an iron rod on fire. The blue flames dancing on the rods heated it to an unbearable temperature where it glowed to a fiery vermillion.

“What is your name, Omega?” Spat a rogue but the man didn’t reply, a boot kicked his back hard making him fall down with his face down on the dirty ground, carmine blood dripping down his back.

“R-Rh-Rhysand...”

The hand that picked up the hot metal with the intention of burning Rhysand’s back was cut off before anyone could blink.

A scream resounded from the rogue whose both hands were mercilessly mutilated. He fell on the ground whimpering and body jerking like a dying fish.

Medusa is standing before the kneeling man looking deranged, the madness which seems to dance in her eyes made the rogues step back in terror. The lilac eyes had turned golden with a bold black slit in between – the eyes of a snake.

Her hairs flowed like honey with the stormy wind, they rose above slowly turning into white hissing snakes. Rogues bowed their heads down, forced on their hands and knees with the untamable ferocity.

“MEDUSA!”

“SHUT UP, ZION!” She wasn’t the only one speaking, several combined voices hissed with her, hatred dripping from their icy tone. The Rogue King Zion was startled with her behavior. It is the first time in thirteen moons when she is out tasting blood.

A whimper forced her eyes to snap to the man already passed out. Magnificent is not the word which could justify his beauty but Medusa is only seeing the scars on his body.

“What are you doing?”

“Protecting what is mine. The hands that touched my mate would never touch anything else in their life."