I sit in a chair in the corner of a dark hotel room; I am waiting for a male I have never seen in my life, and after tonight, no one will ever see him again—at least not alive. No one is aware of the fact that I am sitting here, and no one will ever find out I was in this room. No one has ever been able to find a trace of me. "That is because of what we are," my Lycan grumbles, while keeping a so-called eye on our surroundings.
As I sit there, my mind wanders toward the argument I had this morning—an argument I have been having for years now—and I doubt I will hear the end of it soon. My Mother wants me to take a chosen Mate because I am Wolfless, and technically, everyone is correct in that assumption.
My Lycan and I decided not to shift when I was supposed to, and my Lycan hides in the back of my mind whenever someone is near us. It is best for now if no one knows that I actually have my Lycan. We never meant to keep it hidden from my Father, but we didn’t want to risk him telling anyone. Looking back on my career, I am glad we never told or showed him.
My Mother is what we refer to as a Sigma—a normal type of Werewolf or Lycan. She can fight to defend herself and maybe even help another take out a Rogue if necessary. My Father is what we refer to as an Assassin—a Werewolf or Lycan with an ability that helps them kill others in secret.
They met each other during a Ball at our Pack, and for some reason, they hit it off. My Mother never asked my Father what kind of Wolf or Lycan he was; she didn’t even ask him if he was a Wolf or a Lycan. She didn’t find out the important things about my Father until it was too late to walk away, and she resents him for that.
According to my Mother, she tried to make it work, but something tells me I shouldn’t believe her. She rejected my Father when I was five years old, but she never moved out of the house or found herself another Mate.
We don’t have fated Mates as most believe. We find a Mate with the help of our Wolf or Lycan, and only when the Human and Animal sides agree do we accept someone as our Mate. I just hope that one day both of them will find someone they can spend the rest of their lives with—someone that will make them happy and allow them to move on from their past.
"Someone is coming," my Lycan says, and I pull my attention toward the door of the room I am in.
"Boss, what’s next on our list?" I hear a male ask, and the moment he starts answering, I know he is my target.
"We will go after the Blood Crescent Pack next; they will pay for killing my Cousin," he growls. "Alpha Dominic will regret accepting the assignment. If we take Alpha Dillon, they will send Diego out there to take out whoever took Alpha Dillon, and that is when I will be able to get my revenge for Paul."
"When did Alpha Max step down?" my Lycan asks, but I can’t answer that question. I know Alpha Max has Sons—triplets with the name of Dominic, Dillon, Dax, if I am not mistaken—but I can’t remember getting an invitation to an Alpha ceremony.
I hear footsteps approaching the door, and they don’t sound very steady. Looks like my target might be out faster than I expected.
"I’ll be fine. Just go to bed; we have an early morning," I hear him say, and a moment later, I hear a door close as my target opens the bedroom door. Well, I’ll be damned. He stays in this suite all by himself. That is going to make this even more fun—and I hear my Lycan chuckle in my head.
As he walks toward the bed, he strips out of his clothes, and I can hear his clothes being dropped to the floor. I don’t look at him because it will alert him to my presence in the room.
He crawls straight into bed without turning a light on, and I smile to myself as he lies down groaning—it’s obvious he had one or two drinks too many. It doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out, and I let my eyes drift to the alarm clock on the bedside table. I keep watching it until two hours have passed.
I slowly push myself up from the chair and, keeping my eyes on my target, walk over to the bed. I come to a stop at the foot of the bed.
My target is a handsome male with short brown hair and a body most females would swoon over, but it doesn’t impress me much. I pull a syringe from the belt around my waist and stab it into his leg quickly before shooting the contents into his body.
He opens his fear-filled eyes, and as he opens his mouth, the fear becomes worse—he knows he can’t reach his Wolf anymore. He is at my mercy, and he knows it; the look in my eyes tells him what he fears is going to happen.
"There is not a living soul that knows who I am. Only the dead are aware of my identity, and it is going to stay that way for as long as I want it to. I know the living refer to me as the Angel of Death, but I consider myself the Angel of Justice. I only kill those that deserve to die for the crimes they have committed—those that evaded justice for some reason," I say as I look him dead in the eyes.
"Today, I will be your judge, jury, and executioner. You raped and killed sixteen-year-old boys and girls before they had a chance to live their lives, and today you are going to pay for what you did to them and their families," I say as I drag a silver knife over his body, making deep cuts into his legs, arms, and abdomen.
He tries to scream, but the shot I gave him makes it impossible for him to do so—he can’t make a noise or move a muscle.
I let the knife glide down his abdomen toward his crotch, and his eyes widen when he realizes what I am going to do. With my free hand, I grab his dick as I place the knife at the right angle with my other hand. It will be a slow death; it will take time for him to bleed out if his heart doesn’t fail him first. With no way of alerting anyone, I know he will be dead by the time they find him.
The silver in his system doesn’t help him much either, and I know this is a very effective way of killing a male that has raped someone. I lock eyes with him as I let the knife slide through his dick, and if he had been able to make a noise, he would have woken up the entire hotel with his screaming.
I know how he killed his victims in the end, and I walk toward his head with his dick in my hand. He clamps his mouth shut the moment he realizes why I am walking toward his head.
I place the knife on his chest to free up my hand and press my thumb and index finger on either side of his nose. He has no other choice but to open his mouth to breathe. I shove his severed dick into his mouth before releasing his nose, and I watch as he tries to get his own dick out of his mouth—but time has taught me the best way to do this.
"Enjoy the rest of your pathetic life," I say before picking up the knife and walking out of his bedroom.
Standing next to the door, I listen for any noises, but it is deadly quiet out there. I open the door slightly to see if he left a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, and when I see he did, I remove it quickly.
If the information about my target is correct, he will have a personal wakeup call in the morning—which means someone other than his friend will find him, causing the details to leak into the world.
I lock the door on the inside and leave the way I entered the room—through the sliding doors leading to the balcony. I pull myself up to the balcony above his to make my retreat. The room above his is empty, and I take a moment to check if I took everything with me. I sigh in relief when I confirm everything on my belt is accounted for.
