Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Raven]

'Ezra... please stop! Please get a hold of yourself, brother! Help! Someone!'

I had never felt as helpless as I did that night.

Ezra's consciousness was possessed by a berserk power that burst out of him, blindly obliterating everything and everyone that came in his path.

As the sole survivor of the Forced Activation - a harrowing experiment that shook the very foundation of immortality - sixteen-year-old Ezra stepped out of the walls, burdened by the giant halo of shadows that loomed behind him. The flames of his power charred the very ground he walked on, the impact creating such a severe imbalance that calamities befell in heaven and embers rained down on hell, like shooting stars exploding from the cosmos of destruction, striking the ground bloody red.

Immortal or not, nothing stood alive before him that night. No one was spared, not even himself.

His bones ripped apart, his flesh fractured, and his soul splintered under the strain of the outburst. Crimson mana charged with the shadows of the dead weak bloods zapped around him like wild thunder. Thousands and thousands of souls, aflame with vengeance, had converged within him to end the world.

Their screeches, their pain, the tormented howls of those souls penetrated through Ezra's body, protecting and destroying him at the same time.

Back then, I knew if I didn't do something, I'd lose my brother. So, I didn't think too much and sprinted towards him.

But I didn't know what to do, so I just hugged him tighter and tighter, holding his limbs from ripping apart, hoping I wouldn't lose my brother because of my mistake.

'Thanks for your contribution to this experiment, Raven. The weak bloods you helped escape within these walls were some fine quality guinea pigs. Look at what you did for your brother. Look how strong he is now. Go, prove that you can create history just like my healers. Prove your worth. Go, bring Ezra home.'

Only if I hadn't helped those weak bloods, Ezra wouldn't have to go through this.

It was all my fault.

'Ezra... brother...'

I didn't care how his flames burnt my skin. At that moment, like a mortal, I hoped for a miracle. Something that could erase the last few months.

'Help him! Please help him! I'm begging you-'

The heavy winds howled past us. That's when I heard my father's disappointed sigh.

'I gave you a chance to prove yourself as a healer and here you stand crying and begging for help like an idiot. Asher would've already figured out a way to control Ezra. Separate them and take Ezra to the lab.'

A few hands tore me from Ezra. My vision was unstable from all the burns my body had sustained. In a blur, I saw the healers who went close to Ezra were instantly burnt alive, into skeletons. Soon their disturbing screams were drowned beneath the shrill vibration of dark mana that engulfed Ezra.

'What was all your rebellion for, Raven? Become a healer, do whatever you want, but in the end, you can't change anything. You can't save anyone. You'll always be just as useless as your demon wolf.'This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

***

All that chaos and still my father was able to silently silence the event as though it had never happened, even though it had impacted all realms drastically.

All the healers, alchemists, and staff involved in the experiment disappeared overnight, leaving no trace behind. All the data from the experiment were lost, or should I say, hidden?

After father, Asher began gatekeeping all that information from me and the world and classified them as forbidden knowledge.

As vividly as I remember the horrors of the experiments, there were a few gaps I couldn't fill.

Where was Asher when all of that happened?

Why didn't he come?

Why did father suddenly shut down the experiment he was so proud of? Public outrage or the celestial intrusion could have been a reason, but were they the only reasons?

These questions assimilated over the years. But that night when I sat under the dragon skeleton, only one thought echoed through my paralyzed mind: I never wanted to feel that helpless ever again. And only one question: what would I do if Ezra went berserk again?

It took Ezra months to stabilize his physical body, but years for him to regain his mental stability. And even after all this time, he hadn't fully recovered. The smallest triggers - anything that reminded him of his past - could send him spiraling back to that accursed night.

So, we were always extra cautious, never mentioning anything that could directly stir up Ezra's memories or traumas. Even so, we couldn't keep a check on his emotional triggers. Asher had helped Ezra regulate his emotions throughout these years, but the way he went out of control in the Virgo pack... was proof that some wounds never heal.

Once Asher became Alpha, he ensured Ezra would never encounter or even hear of a weak blood again. It became the law that all children suffering from mortalitis would be silently put to rest.

It was unlikely that Ezra was unaware of this law, yet it was understandable why he never intervened. Perhaps he agreed it was the best for those kids as well. Given everything a weak blood endured every day, death was indeed the best thing that could happen to them.

But there was only so much Asher could control. Even as alphas, we couldn't monitor all oddities. There were families and people working in the shadows who didn't kill such children, but helped them escape beyond the pack walls, where they lived in secret colonies hidden in the wilderness.

'... your future no longer looks as bright as your smile, brother. Good luck protecting her. I hope you're not too late this time.'

I shut my eyes, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

Even after knowing everything he went through... how could I say such horrible things to him?

Because of my stupid insecurities, I had reopened one of Ezra's deepest wounds with my words.

When did I become so desperate? How did I let my emotions get so unruly?

I still remember every emotion that I felt that night and everything I forced myself to never feel again. All the complex emotions that I twisted, manipulated, erased and all the basic ones that I left untouched.

That was the most I could do with Pheles' powers as an Emotion demon. I could sense basic emotions in others, but since I blocked most of my own, I couldn't feel them.

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Emotion demons were low tier demons in hell because their powers were limited to the emotions of others. And on someone like Asher who never shows any emotions, they are completely useless.

I had no interest or right to interfere with others' emotional privacy, so Pheles' demonic powers were mostly useless to me.

Or so I thought, because it was Pheles' powers as an emotion demon that held me together through the turmoils of all the what ifs that followed.

What if I hadn't helped those kids escape to the weak blood colonies? Would it have saved Ezra?

What if I wasn't paralyzed with fear?

What if I stopped my father sooner? Would Ezra have suffered any less?

What if Asher was there instead of me? He would have saved Ezra sooner.

What if I was in Ezra's place? Would my father have done the same with me? If he did, would I have survived?

It doesn't matter what I felt... I will never let Ezra feel any of that pain again. And that is why I had to get rid of that boy before Ezra found out.

***

I peered at the dark space in Xanthea's cupboard. I grabbed the fit-it-all pouch and examined its scent.

For a split second, Xanthea's tranquil scent lingering on the pouch and her clothes overpowered my senses as I shut my eyes, my mind almost shutting down.

Snapping out of the distraction, I kept the pouch on the vanity and squinted my eyes at the dark corner of the cupboard. Using Pheles' eyes, I peered at the murky green fear projecting out of the boy and Zosha. The kids had drunk an invisibility potion, thinking that it would hide them from me. Clever, but not clever enough.

"Alpha. I am telling the truth. They jumped out of the speeding car and got crushed by an incoming truck," Lana said, standing in my way. "They never came into the castle."

"Lana, I thought you were on my side," I said, and Lana flinched, cowering under my glare.

"I-I am on your side, alpha," Lana nodded, her pointed ears flickering.

"Then stop lying to me and step aside."

Her wings drooped in fear, but she stood before me, foolishly thinking her tiny body was enough to shield Zosha and the boy.

"I am not lying!" Lana said, shutting her eyes, her nose flaring.

I frowned.

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"I don't have time for this..." I walked past her and squatted, reaching out towards the kids.

Just then, Lana jumped on my back, her hands covering my eyes.

"What the-"

"They are not here! No one's here!" Lana yelled.

I got up, stumbling back as I tried to get her off me.

"Get off me!" I growled. I could feel her whole body shivering, but she just tightened her grip around my eyes. "Why you little-"

I grabbed her arm and hurled away from me.

"Lana! Ugh!"

A groan broke Xanthea's horrified gasp as she dashed to catch Lana. But her body jolted back from the impact, her back slammed against the wall the moment her arms instinctively wrapped around Lana to shield her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Xanthea snapped, her voice laced with fury as she glared at me.

Lana's eyes fluttered open, her gaze finding Xanthea's as she winced, steadying herself away from the wall. She took in the pain etched on Xanthea's face with a mix of guilt and gratitude.

"I... I'm sorry," Lana stammered, her voice trembling from the shock.

Xanthea shook her head, her eyes softening when they fell on Lana.

"No Lana, I wasn't yelling at you, sweety," she said, getting on her knees as she put Lana to her feet.

The murky green projections in the cupboard rushed towards Xanthea and hid behind her.

Sensing something, Xanthea glanced at the air around her feet as she got up. It didn't take her long to understand that Zosha and the boy were hiding behind her.

Soft pink of care and affection blended into the murky green as she protectively pulled Lana behind her. And when she finally looked at me again, the blazing red of rage in her aura dimmed all other colors except the protective dark blue. At that moment, an inexplicable thought surfaced in my heart: What if our mother had protected us like this?

I knew her efforts would have been futile against our father. But had she ever even tried, like Xanthea was trying to save the children she barely knew... would that have made any difference?

Perhaps not, because my little omega could struggle all she wanted, but in the end, it would all be in vain.