Unleashing Chaos

ALEXANDER

From across the field, I caught sight of her. She was hissing like a cornered snake, encircled by Shahalia’s goons. Her clothes were in tatters, barely clinging to her slender body, and drenched in blood.

From what I could gather, it was her own blood. The metallic scent of it hung heavy in the air. She was still bleeding.

The ripped shirt and the blood-soaked fabric were clear signs that the arrow had been lodged in her chest for hours. The charred remnants of her clothes suggested she had crawled out of a fire pit.

Her fiery red eyes locked with mine, and I felt a surge of hope—a surge of pride. It was almost overwhelming. She had complete faith in me.

Yet, I had let her down. I had failed to shield her. Failed to ensure her safety.

All I could do was beg for her forgiveness—for putting her in such a dire situation.

She stood amidst crushed poppy flowers, her dark blood matching the color of the petals. Two burly henchmen held her arms back, pinning her between them.

Knives were aimed at her chest, at her throat. I advanced toward her, maintaining eye contact. I disregarded the henchmen and Jahan, who were closing in on me.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whispered.

Her breath hitched, her large doe eyes welled up with tears, and she vehemently shook her head.

Jahan was shouting commands, his men advancing toward me, but she was all I could see. All I could feel was her hope seeping into me.

I managed a small smile, admiring her resilience. For a fleeting moment, the sight of her restrained by a guard transported me back over a hundred years to the first time I lost her.

But this time, it was different. I could sense her determination, her hope, her pride. This time, we were invincible.

She acted before I did, catching me off guard. She twisted her head and bit down on the thick wrist restraining her chest. The henchman recoiled in pain.

I seized the momentary distraction and lunged forward, hurling my dagger into the skull of the second henchman holding her. Caught off guard, he collapsed.

Then all hell broke loose.

My fury propelled me—fury at the bodies separating us. Henchmen swarmed toward me, brandishing their blades, baring their fangs.

I leapt into the fray, cutting down the first two henchmen between us. More attacked, and I systematically took them down, their blood splattering across my already blood-soaked clothes.

I felt the grazes, the scratches as they swarmed me from all sides, but I was quicker and stronger, and I was fighting with all my might.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Aya wrenching herself free from a henchman’s grip. When he lunged at her, she twisted, hissed, and sank her teeth into his throat, ripping it out.

The henchman choked and fell. She wriggled out from under him and pounced on another.

I parried and dodged the henchmen’s relentless onslaught. I seized one by the back of his neck and hurled him into another charging at me.

They both tumbled to the ground. I moved swiftly, carving a path toward her, cutting down any vampire who dared obstruct me.

She was quick, using her nails, scratching any henchman that approached her. I heard her small cries as a blade grazed too close, but I could feel it only stoking her fury, her thirst for their blood.

When I took down the last body separating us, she was tearing another henchman’s throat out. Her chin was smeared with blood, her fingers digging into the henchman’s shoulder as he screamed in agony.

I had never seen her so ferocious, so vengeful. And I had probably never been more aroused by her.

I reached out and clasped her hand. She was cold, her skin slick with blood. She spun around, her bright red eyes blazing, her fangs bared, ready to strike.

The moment she realized I’d grabbed her, her heart pounded loudly, and she gasped.

“Alexander,” she breathed, her face lighting up with the most radiant smile I had ever seen.

Damn, she was breathtaking. She was the most beautiful creature in the world.

And she was mine.

I pulled her toward me, needing to feel her. Needing to touch her, to confirm she was still intact.

My hand found its way to the back of her neck, pulling her close to me. I bent my head down to meet her lips.

The kiss was intense and filled with a raw passion. I kissed her with a hunger that was insatiable, savoring every bit of her.

Her fangs grazed my skin, sending a wave of desire coursing through me.

“Aya,” I moaned, feeling her breath hitch.

“I’m here,” she whispered back, her breath warm against my skin, her happiness palpable.

Suddenly, the sharp sting of a blade against my back broke our kiss, ending it as abruptly as it had begun.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her as close to me as I could. Aya understood and pressed herself against me.

Her legs wound around my waist, her arms around my neck, clinging to me. I could feel the power coursing through me.

With one arm securely around her, I held her close while my other hand wielded my sword. Her body pressed against mine, her heartbeat in sync with mine, her lips brushing against my face—I felt invincible.

“Hello, little bird,” I whispered, leaping into the air to dodge a blade, landing with her in my arms before slicing through the attacker.

I could feel her tears, her muscles straining to hold herself as close to me as possible, almost to the point of pain. Her face was nestled in the crook of my neck.

But I didn’t mind; I wanted her there. I wanted her to be a part of me forever.

I spun around, my blade cutting through the bodies around us.

“Kill them both!”

Jahan’s voice echoed. I turned toward the sound, spotting him on a hill in the distance.

I growled and leapt over the nearest henchman, landing and sprinting toward him. Henchmen trailed behind me; Aya clung to me, not wanting to let go even for a moment.

I charged up the hill. Jahan snarled at me, drawing his sword and charging toward me.

As he lunged, I stopped abruptly, spinning so his attack would hit my back. His sword cut deep into me.

Pain seared through me, hot and intense. I hissed while he danced back, his sword slick with my blood.

Aya gasped, the force of Jahan’s strike taking her by surprise. She was strong, but she could get seriously hurt, caught between two purebloods.

And I didn’t want to see her hurt ever again.

I gently unwrapped her hands from around my neck, and she let go of me, stepping back. I could feel her fear, her pain.

“Alex,” her voice was filled with worry; she knew how deep Jahan’s sword had cut.

I met her gaze and gave her a small smile before turning to block Jahan’s next attack.

“I would rather die before he ever touches you again,” I vowed to Aya. Her expression told me she’d rather kill me herself than see me die at his hands.

“I can make that happen,” Jahan snarled, lunging at me.

Quick as a snake, I dodged, swinging my sword toward his back. Jahan moved, and my sword clashed against his.

The henchmen were almost at the top of the hill, and Aya turned to face them, hissing, her fangs bared. I felt a surge of pride at her courage.

My back was healing, but the fight with Jahan was relentless. My blood seeped into the dirt as we circled each other, attacking and defending.

“You can’t beat me, boy,” he taunted. “You will die here, and I will keep your girl until she’s no longer able to stand. Then I will nail her to my wall to admire my art.”

Growling, I slammed my sword against his and stepped into him, snapping my elbow back into his face. I was met with a satisfying crunch—his blood sprayed against my face.

Jahan hissed, skidding away from me.

“Your days of abusing turned vampires are over,” I growled.

He laughed, dodging my stab.

Behind us, I could hear Aya fearlessly attacking the nearest henchman.

I lunged at Jahan. He blocked at the last moment, my sword grazing his hip as I swung down. He growled, spinning and bringing his sword down on me. I blocked just in time, shoving my shoulder into his chest and pushing him back.

He lunged at me, his feet skidding in the dirt as he launched himself into the air. I met his attack with my sword, but he managed to dig his fingers into my shoulder, piercing through to the muscle.

I grunted, pushing him away, feeling a piece of my flesh tear away with him. Jahan was older, stronger, and had centuries of fighting experience on me. His technique was a testament to that.

But I also knew he hadn’t fought in a long time—probably since I was born—and that showed too.

His reactions were sluggish, and I was relentless. Every time he faltered, I managed to land a small cut. He was a patchwork of minor wounds, bleeding and healing in a continuous cycle.

As he swung at me again, my blood dripped from his fingers. This time, I ducked and retaliated with a swift kick, sending him sprawling on the ground.

A sharp gasp and a jolt of pain from Aya had me spinning around. She was in the process of snapping the neck of a henchman who had grabbed her.

Another one tried to jump on her back, but a silver blade found its way into his chest, and he dropped like a stone.

My eyes followed the trajectory of the blade back to its owner. The American who smelled like my sister had thrown himself between Aya and the henchmen.

Aya whirled around and gasped when she saw him.

“Anthony!”

To my absolute dismay, she flung herself into the American’s arms, her joy seeping into me.

He grinned at her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Fancy seeing you here, Aya!” He winked at her.

A snarl escaped me as I remembered the name Anthony. She’d mentioned him before, how he’d helped her. My dislike for him intensified.

They both turned to look at me simultaneously, alarm flashing in Aya’s eyes. It was a stark reminder of the dangerous situation we were still in.

Jahan tried to get up, but I stomped on his chest, keeping him grounded. He hissed as I stepped on his sword and kicked it away.

The henchmen tried to attack Aya and the American, but he fended them off with practiced ease.

I glared at the hand he extended to steady Aya.

I bent down and grabbed Jahan by his hair. He tried to bite me, but I countered with a punch to his face.

He growled as I yanked him to his knees, forcing his head up by his hair. I wanted him to look at me as I slowly positioned my sword against his throat.

“Drop your weapons! Now!” I commanded.

The henchmen froze, their eyes on Jahan, who squirmed under my grip.

“I’ll cut his head off,” I threatened.

“Put them down,” Jahan squeaked, and his men complied instantly. Aya and Anthony moved away from them.

Aya rushed toward me, and I pulled her close, my arm around her waist. I shot a glare at the American.

He busied himself disarming the Shahalia henchmen.

I could feel Aya leaning against me, her chest heaving from the exertion. Her clothes were torn, barely there. She was covered in fresh blood, her fangs prominent against her full lips.

Partly because I wanted to, and partly because the American had turned back to us, I bent down, my blade still at Jahan’s throat, and kissed her.

Aya made a small, surprised sound, then melted into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her hip pressing into my leg. I explored her mouth, losing myself in her.

Jahan’s movement beneath me had me pulling back with a snarl. I kicked him in the back, earning hisses from his men.

“Would you like to do the honors?” I asked Aya. Her eyes widened.

“Kill him?”

“Yes,” I grinned.

“No, Alexander. You can’t kill a pureblood! That’s a capital crime!” Aya protested.

I looked back at her, my blade still against Jahan’s throat, my fingers tugging at his hair.

“I don’t care,” I smirked. “I’m already a criminal.”

“Alex,” Aya admonished.

“He doesn’t deserve to live after what he did to you, Aya,” I retorted. “And for all the other crimes he’s committed against turned vampires for centuries.”

“You don’t have that jurisdiction anymore,” the annoying American interjected.

I growled at him. “I’m righting a wrong. I’ll face the consequences if they arise.”

A hush fell over Aya and Anthony, and I found myself bending down to lock eyes with Jahan.

“I’d hate for you to think I’m heartless. You should have thought about that before you decided to mess with my girl and threaten my sister.”

His eyes grew wide with terror as he fully grasped the consequences of his actions. The fear that was practically radiating off him was enough to satisfy the beast within me.

I gently dragged my blade across his throat. Blood gushed out, instantly drenching his shirt and the ground beneath him.

Jahan choked, his eyes reflecting the color of his own blood.

With a swift motion, I severed the rest of his head from his body.

It rolled back, landing in the hands of the Shahalia henchmen who were waiting in anticipation.