Her Men Of Ruin

"Report

your standings, brothers," Ziason says to his brothers after they

were done bowing.

Zechariah

goes first. "There are no sign of an attack yet, but I left my men

on the borders. They'll keep watch."

Ziason

nods at Zechariah before looking at Zeedar, who starts talking. "The

company is fine. Technology in the human world is vastly spreading,

and electricity is highly needed, so sales are doing well. However,

there is another matter I want to discuss."

"Do

say."

"As

you may have already known, the alpha of Tribalan pack is a mystery,

but he used his Beta to relay his conditions for a peace treaty to

me."

Ziason

remain silent for a very long time, his expression tightening into a

deep frown. "Peace treaty? Conditions? Since when did we start

discussing a peace treaty, ambassador?"

"I

acted alone, Alpha. This war needs to stop no matter how you deny it.

The condition isn't difficult. They just want the old acre of land

uncle gifted father."

Ziason

reclines in the sofa and crosses his legs-his left leg over the

right. "And you think-"

He suddenly stops talking when a harsh unpleasant sound hits his

nostrils.

Scrunching

his nose, he doesn't need to search where the smell came from, as

he could already see the perpetrator.

Zechariah.

The

man quietly unwraps a bubble gum and tosses it into his mouth,

looking up to find Ziason glaring at him.

He

enjoys the glare, and he smirks while chewing the gum, fully aware of

what he's doing.

Ziason

thought a full year in the border between Moon's Wrath pack and

Tribalan pack would change the man. But he was wrong. His youngest

brother is still very much interested in annoying him using his

despise for garlic.

However,

before he could order Zechariah to throw away the gum, another smell

overshadows the stink of garlic. A more pleasant smell. A mixture of

peony and lemon.

Something

pulls his attention to the hall's entrance. Not only him. Zeedar

and Zechariah perceived the scent too.

As

they're prompted to turn toward the door, they feel something rise

within them, like a subtle heat at the start of a rising sun.

However,

they see nothing special at the entrance. Even as the crowd jeers the

moment they turn back, it's all uninteresting.

Slowly,

the scent begins to fade, but the magnetic feeling doesn't.

Something still captivates them. Only, this time it doesn't feel

close.

"Peace

from an enemy's mouth is a piece of shit. Do you think giving back

the land will solve everything, ambassador?" Ziason asks, snatching

his brothers' attention from the door as he rises up and steps down

the stairs of his raised platform.

"I

think it will serve as the best framework for peace, my lord,"

Zeedar replies with confidence.

Now

pausing in front of the latter, Ziason huffs a smile, maintaining eye

contact with Zeedar, who doesn't relent. "And what do you say,

Zechariah?" he asks the last brother without breaking his eye

contact with the ambassador.

"I

don't mind which prevails," Zechariah mumbles, "but I prefer to

be in a battle scene."

"Do

you hear that, brother?" Ziason asks Zeedar. And, without waiting

for a response, he continues. "You went behind my back without

finding out what I want. What I want is war. What I want is power.

With you as my adviser and Zechariah as my warrior, I will dominate

packs. I will grow stronger and overtake even the Alpha King. Until

there is terror on every single minds at the mention of my name, I

will not rest. I ask again: do you hear that, brother?"

"What's

the use of being your adviser if you don't take my advice,"

Zeedar simply says before walking away, using the back door to leave

the hall.

Due

to growing up with an abusive father and a manipulative mother,

Zeedar has not always been uncomfortable staying in the wolf kingdom.

He prefers the human world. And in times when it's necessary for

him to stay in the wolf kingdom, he prefers to roam about.

Like

now.

Sitting

under a shade in the pack street, he can't help staring up at his

old home from time to time.

The

tower's length is domineering to the point one can see it from

afar. And it always looks dark, like a shadow threatening to swallow

every piece of light around its environment. It gives Zeedar chills,

and it carries heavy memories that he wishes he can forget.

However,

despite the unsettling feeling lingering within him, there's also

something else, and that's what makes him stare at the tower every

time.

As

he can't hold the curiosity any longer, he proceeds toward the

building.

The

more he closes in on it, the more a certain feeling of familiarity

grows strong, trailed by the sensation from earlier; that subtle heat

at the start of a rising sun feeling.

So

as not to roughen his suit by jumping over the fence of the tower,

Zeedar results to using the combination lock on the main gate and the

main door.

Inside

the tower, the air feels thick with bad memories. Even though the

hall is now empty, Zeedar can still tell every item that was in it,

as well as their positions. And he recalls running up and down those

staircases in terror, sometimes falling and cutting his skin.

Despite

all these memories, the air soon starts growing lighter. More

pleasant and perfumed. And the same peony and lemon scent he

perceived at the pack hall starts clouding his senses again.

Zeedar's

stiffness locks when a loud bang echoes from the next hall, followed

by the noisy clatter of wooden planks. He becomes alert on instinct,

but settles down when he perceives Zechariah's artificial perfume.

The

faint sound of clinking metals introduces the man as he walks in

through the next hall's entrance, dusting his elbows.

On

sighting Zeedar, he mumbles. "Jeez. Why did brother lock every

bloody window?"

Without

responding, Zeedar jerks a brow up at the thought of Zechariah

breaking a window. The pack's delight only approved of actions that

would not incur Ziason's wrath. But here he is going against his

rule book a few hours after landing in the pack.

"Brother

reformed that into a gym. Wasn't it father's meeting hall?"

Zechariah asks as he points back at the hall he came out from.

On

reaching Zeedar, he stands akimbo, still loudly popping the garlic

gum. "You've not been here since we packed out after father's

death. Why come back now?"

Zeedar's

eyes move from Zechariah to the stairs. "I sensed something."

Zechariah

huffs. "Why not just say you sensed a mating bond? You of all

people should know how it feels."