Mindless Beasts

It was broad daylight when seven people walked out of the backdoor of the VIP lounge.

Each of them were tall, muscular and strong, while exuding a dominant aura from head to toe.

Since they were celebrating their friend’s birthday, for the first time in months none of them wore their fancy military academy uniforms.

Having put their lives on the line for each other on numerous occasions, they were as close as family, in high spirits, with a conversational tone that was casual, playful and jovial.

It wasn’t hard to tell that they were from a military background because even in their relaxed state they exuded a synchronicity of mature confidence, with precise and agile movements.

Suddenly in the middle of a spirited debate one of the alpha’s separated from the small group and veered to the right, as if possessed, a hunter that caught whiff of prey.

His nostrils flared and his eyes widened, the left eye was green and the right eye was blue, excitement glistened in the slit of those wolf-like pupils.

He ignored the inquiries of his comrades as he sniffed the air, his movement sped up, his friends struggled to keep up as his pace increased dramatically.

None could match his footsteps as he dashed from off the paved road and made a beeline, headed straight for the woods behind the infamous nightclub.

The sun shone down brightly while highlighting the harsh profile of Khaldun Wolfe, with the potential to be a future god of war in the Ephedra empire.

"What’s wrong?" cried Shelby Callum.

Khaldun’s closest friend, when he almost ran into the back of Khaldun when he stopped dramatically midstride.

Puzzled, Khaldun’s forehead creased dramatically, "can’t you smell it?"

Before Shelby could respond a slight breeze ruffled through the trees causing autumn leaves to fall all around them like a taunt.

Only Shelby had managed to keep up with Khaldun, the other members of the group had yet to reach the clearing.

Shelby’s face mirrored Khaldun’s confusion.

Still to give his friend Khaldun the benefit of the doubt Shelby’s robin blue eyes sharply surveyed the area but his heightened senses didn’t come across anything out of the ordinary.

"Everything seems normal to me, what scent did you pick up?"

It was a unique scent, intensely sweet and very potent.

The closest thing Khaldun could describe it was like a rare perfume-like flower that only bloomed once a year at midnight.

Pure, frail and lonely but lovely in its forlorn beauty as a prized flower.

As a prime alpha his intuition told Khaldun that this was a light pheromone from an omega.

The tantalizing aroma caressed his body and wrapped around his heart.

Such potency was enough to trigger the inherent possessiveness of even the most recessive alpha and Khaldun was not immune to its allure.

There.

Khaldun sniffed the air; the fragrance he detected was still faint but unique.

Pheromones that were calling to him to save them.

Blinded by desire he followed his nose until it led him to the outskirts of a cemetery.

At that very same moment a large funeral procession passed by.

Some of the faces he recognised as they were familiar work colleagues of his elderly father.

It must be some member of an elite military family judging by the high level of security.

Neither Khaldun nor his friends who eventually caught up were allowed to get close.

Since Khaldun could only watch from a distance he scanned the crowd of silent mourners.

To see who bore the scent but just as quickly as the pheromones appeared it was as if it was suddenly snuffed out and vanished into thin air.

Disappointed, Khaldun and his friends turned away from the funeral and made their way to Paradise Military Academy.

A few hours later...

The instant the young man opened his eyes he saw the family doctor’s face.

Instead of relief he felt nothing but pain.

Why couldn’t he sit up?

The last thing Sly Foxx remembered was him jumping onto his sister, Ayana’s casket.

While Ayana’s casket was being lowered into the earth at the end of the funeral service.

Turning to the servants Lord Ducan ordered, "Get that fool off the coffin!"

The rigid and ominous atmosphere of the funeral was shattered by the booming voice of the commander.

"No!" cried Sly.

Sly’s normally jovial blue eyes were now red and tearful.

As Sly rebelliously challenged his father with all his strength.

Not an ounce of sympathy.

No loving embrace or words of comfort were exchanged between father and son.

Lord Duncan just tightened his grip on Sly’s wrists; his father was exerting so much pressure that Sly winced from the pain, feeling his bones could snap at any moment.

Everyone respectfully moved out of the way as the decorated commander used his large rough military hands to aggressively yank the young lad off his sister’s coffin.

Lord Duncan wanted to shout and swear obscenely at the rebellious youth but with family and invited guests present at the funeral the commander had to maintain some level of decorum.

Instead Lord Duncan closed his mouth and swallowed his foul words.

In a bid to control his anger directed at Sly, and maintain his dignity at the funeral.

Lord Duncan put on a fake smile and his words were swallowed bitterly as now was not the time for them to be said.

Overshadowed by his fathers stern oppressive countenance, Sly was distressed.

He no longer had his sister to use as a buffer between them and Sly instinctively started cowering in fear.

There was no more pretense of a loving father.

Just a selfish and exploitative commander doing his duty to keep the family bloodline pure and free from taint.

Hurt by the sudden burst of his father’s antagonism and hatred towards him, Sly was stunned for a few seconds.

When Lord Duncan heard his eldest and only illegitimate daughter passed away he felt nothing.

Just a mild annoyance that Ayana’s death was causing a disturbance in the normally quiet and peaceful household.

Sly couldn’t help but wonder where things went wrong and why he felt so disconnected from reality.

Then before Sly could process his emotions he was forcefully pulled off the casket by his own father and handed over to the waiting servants.

While Sly was being dragged away nothing could prepare him for the sight of the dirt hitting the casket and that’s when Sly fainted.

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