Chapter 2

Lyla let out a frustrated sigh, her exasperation echoing through the room, as she tightened her grip on the pills in her hand. Standing amidst the towering figures around her, she paused to observe Kieran, the man who held the key to their salvation. He desired leadership and control, and their desperate situation demanded provisions. Pride alone couldn't sustain them indefinitely. Lyla knew deep down that they needed assistance to stay alive, which led her to seek Kieran's help. Her eyes remained fixed on the man, who seemed larger than life, as she waited, the passage of time stretching before her like an eternity. It was impossible to ignore the events unfolding around her—the once mighty reduced to pitiful beings, dragged into the face of judgment. Lyla wasn't sure what they were being held accountable for. All she knew was that anyone brought to the Fortification deemed despicable was executed without mercy, regardless of pleas, bribes, or lineage. The mob held no regard for anything, not even guilt. Lyla had hoped her persistence would compel Kieran to acknowledge her presence, just as his Beta had done, offering her a chance to make her plea. But as she waited, her heart pounded faster and faster, threatening to break free from her chest. The pungent stench permeating the air—emanating not only from her clothes but from the seething alphas surrounding her—made her feel nauseous. In desperation, she reached for her pills, her movements swift and precise. With trembling fingers, she unscrewed the bottle cap and carefully pinched a small blue tablet between her index finger and thumb. Her gloved pinky hooked onto the grimy mask, pulling it down slightly to allow her to slip the pill between her lips. As the pill touched her tongue, Lyla struggled to generate enough saliva to swallow it. The tablet scraped down her throat, causing a grimace and a low groan as the sensation, combined with her empty stomach, threatened to expel the precious medicine. She quickly smoothed the fabric over her face, covering as much of her skin as possible, reclaiming the shield against the noxious odor. But then, everything went awry. The air itself seemed to shift, and an instinctual wave of fear washed over Lyla, signaling her worst nightmare come true. Kieran, previously motionless, suddenly turned his unnaturally still form towards her, the cracking of bones in his neck audible as he twisted his head to an unusual degree. Sweat dripped profusely from her brow, and she felt unbearably ill as she summoned the courage to speak the moment she felt his attention on her. "I need to speak to you," she uttered, her voice barely audible. He had taken countless lives, and even through the fabric obscuring her face, Lyla could sense his presence—the strongest scent amidst the others, no doubt. Yet, his gaze held a more terrifying intensity than the Da'rin markings on his skin. Cold and unforgiving like liquid mercury, his eyes seemed to peer through her facade, stripping away her defenses. Her shoulders slumped, a surge of burning anxiety gripped her stomach, causing painful contractions, leaving only terror in its wake. All her efforts had been in vain. Taking in a tired breath, influenced as though her legs couldn't choose what direction to run, Lyla murmured faintly, "No... no, no, this can't occur." Some way or another, every one of the arrangements, the pills, had not been sufficient. There were such a large number of alphas, a lot of their fragrance in the air, and she had gone straightforwardly into heat. As of now, he could feel the smooth get-together between her legs, its aroma, something so weaved with pheromones that it wouldn't be covered by the appalling smell she had deliberately worn That multitude of hours she had thought it had been absence of food, the smell of rotting things, and the heaviness of the cover... she had remained there in the wolves' lair like a moron while the signs had been building: sickness, dashing heart, fever... furthermore, the greatest wolf of all was checking her out. Lyla at last had his consideration, and presently it was purposeless. She was at that point becoming indiscernible, spent, her voice breaking and charging simultaneously. "I just needed to converse with you. I simply required a second." That sensation-the one she had battled for such a long time—made her shake and get ready to escape, yet there was at that point a mix in the air. She attempted to pause her breathing as alphas sniffed around like dogs. Kieran countered her speculative retreat, dealing with her directly, gazing at her with the wide, engaged eyes of a tracker. It was his consideration — the consideration she had trusted would save her sort — that attracted the eyes of others in the room. A greater amount of that damn fluid began to stream down her legs, immersing the texture of her dress, flagging that a charming omega had unexpectedly shown up, and that she was entering a power cycle. There would be an uproar, a bloodbath as they pulled at her... maybe mounting her not too far off on that foul marble floor. With another horrifying wave, she multiplied over, her students gradually gobbling up the green irises until just dimness with an emerald ring remained. A thunder emitted from the profundities, tight holding hands mauled at her arm. She shouted, and the craze started. Lyla let out a frustrated mumble, her disturbance resounding through the room, as she fixed her grip on the pills in her hand. Staying amidst the rising figures around her, she halted to see Kieran, the person who held the key to their salvation. He needed organization and control, and their berserk situation mentioned courses of action. Pride alone couldn't uphold them unendingly. Lyla acknowledged where it counts that they expected help to stay alive, which drove her to search for Kieran's help. Her eyes remained fixed on the man, who seemed, by all accounts, to be astounding, as she stopped, the movement of time reaching out before her like an impossible time span. It was hard to ignore what was happening around her — the once strong decreased to pitiful animals, pulled into defiance judgment. Lyla didn't have the foggiest idea what they were being viewed as answerable for. All she knew was that anyone brought to the Fortification considered detestable was executed without benevolence, paying little regard to petitions, adjustments, or heredity. The group held no regard for anything, not even culpability. The environment grew continuously extreme, over-burdening Lyla as she drove forward, her breaths shallow and speedy, declining to yield despite the awesome longing to get away. She endeavored to envision she hadn't heard a pariah being sentenced to a stunning predetermination — his skin ripped away to test his spine. The hour had become late, and her powerless confirmation felt immaterial. Those silver eyes not even once turned her head, regardless, for a brief look. Lyla had believed her diligence would ask Kieran to perceive her presence, comparatively as his Beta had done, offering her a chance to make her petition. Anyway, as she stopped, her heart beat faster and speedier, doing whatever it takes to break free from her chest. The effective smell overrunning the air — oozing from her pieces of clothing as well as from the seething alphas, including her — made her vibe debilitated. In madness, she pursued her pills, her improvements fast and careful. With shaking fingers, she unscrewed the compartment cap and carefully pressed a little blue tablet between her pointer and thumb. Her gloved pinky trapped onto the smirched cover, pulling it down to some degree to allow her to slip the pill between her lips. As the pill reached her tongue, Lyla endeavored to make adequate spit to swallow it. The tablet scratched down her throat, causing a glare and a low groan as the sensation, got together with her empty stomach, did whatever it takes to eliminate the important prescription. She quickly smoothed out the surface of her face, covering as amount of her skin as she could, recuperating the defense from the harmful aroma. Anyway, by then, everything ended up being terrible. The real air seemed to move, and an instinctual wave of fear washed over Lyla, hailing her most feared dread workout. Kieran, in advance unmoving, all of a sudden turned his unnaturally still construction towards her, the breaking of bones in his neck was distinguishable as he bent his head to an unprecedented degree. Sweat streamed abundantly from her sanctuary, and she felt distressingly wiped out as she accumulated the psychological courage to talk the subsequent she felt his thought on her. "I need to address You," she communicated, her voice hardly perceptible. He had taken boundless lives, and, shockingly, through the surface obfuscating her face, Lyla could identify his presence — the most grounded scent amidst the others, no inquiry. Be that as it may, his look held a more startling power than the Da'rin markings on his skin. Cold and unforgiving like liquid mercury, his eyes seemed to glance through her facade, stripping away her watchmen. Her shoulders hung, a surge of consuming anxiety got a handle on her stomach, causing horrendous withdrawals, leaving her simply in dread for a while. All of her undertakings had been very much. Taking in a depleted breath, affected like her legs couldn't decide which way to run, Lyla muttered faintly, "No... no, no, this can't occur." Some way or another, every one of the courses of action, the pills, had not been satisfactory. There was such a colossal number of alphas, a lot of their fragrance in the air, and she had gone plainly into heat. Right now, she could feel the smooth party between her legs, its aroma, something so twisted with pheromones that it wouldn't be covered by the stunning smell she had intentionally worn. That tremendous number of hours she had thought it had been nonappearance of food, the smell of ruining things, and the heaviness of the cover... she had remained there in the wolves' home like a nitwit while the signs had been building: jumble, running heart, fever... also, the best wolf of everything was checking her out. Lyla, at long last, had his thought, and eventually it was purposeless. She was by then becoming jumbled, spent, her voice breaking and charging meanwhile. "I essentially needed to chat with you. I required a second." That sensation-the one she had battled for such a long time—made her shake and get ready to move away, yet there was by then a mix in the air. She attempted to stop her breathing as alphas sniffed around like canines. Kieran countered her speculative retreat, dealing with her clearly, taking a gander at her with the wide, attracted eyes of a tracker. It was his idea — the idea she had trusted would save her sort—that pulled the room by others. A more vital proportion of that damn fluid began to spill down her legs, soaking the outer layer of her dress, Hailing that a dumbfounding omega had startlingly shown up, and that she was entering a power cycle. There would be an uproar, a bloodbath as they pulled at her... maybe mounting her not unreasonably distant on that foul marble floor. With another horrifying wave, she copied over, her students gradually gobbling up the green irises until just shadowiness with an emerald ring remained. A thunder sent from the profundities, tight catching hands obliterated another arm. She shouted, and the craze started.