The streets ran red because of him.

The city was ablaze because of him.

Hundreds of people were dead because of him.

More would die because of him.

These were all misfortunes that would have sent Kieran on a guilt trip straight to the deepest depths of Pride. Drinking Teru's blood should've been the final nail to his sanity's coffin, likely to never escape. This was when he should be finishing off New York and then on to the next town. There were thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of maggot-scented souls that needed to be reaped so they could be handled accordingly in the afterlife.

Yet, Kieran's mind was clear. He would not be rampaging across the country today, tomorrow, or ever. Pride heard what it needed to hear, coming to terms that blood wasn't his main weakness. Rather, it had been Kieran's self-criticisms all along: he somehow got himself captured, he could never be fixed, he'd forever be imperfect, etc. His Pride couldn't accept having trauma, so it manifested as an inability to drink blood.

Still...

Kieran was back.

His conscience was a clean slate, no longer weighed down by the responsibilities as a deadly sin. Though slightly hesitant about tasting blood in general, Kieran had someone in his life that would help him regain his confidence as Pride.

My destined mate.

My Humility.

My omega.

Mine.

Without Teru's acceptance of Pride, and Pride accepting Teru, his lion symbol would have spent forever waiting for its master to swallow his pride and seek help. Sometimes, even a person like Kieran couldn't do it alone. He'd forever be indebted to this little human, pregnant with his pups.

Pups...

Right. The impossible was growing in his womb. If Charles was baffled, then there was no one else who could explain. Kieran glanced down at Teru's stomach as he ran with him in his arms. He saw a faint outline of a bump under the sweater. This was Kieran's first time being fully aware after the kill-shot. The past was fuzzy. How long had it been for his belly to already be showing? Just where was Teru kept? How did he escape? Granted, Kieran wasn't completely surprised-Teru was a crafty fox who was sharp and ridiculously stubborn.

He's slightly heavier than before. I'm glad to see he gained weight and no other injuries-

His sight narrowed at the cuts on Teru's bare feet. Where the hell were his shoes?! Kieran was beyond livid, wanting to lick the blood clean off. And...why was there a scratch on his cheek deep enough to require stitches?! Being backhanded wouldn't cause such a laceration. It had to be from a weapon.

...Like a whip.

A goddamned whip.

Someone had to pay.

To anyone above, listen to me for once. Hear me. Send me the piece of shit who is responsible for everything. I want to destroy him, the one who kept us apart. Give me his head on a silver platter-

Kieran stopped. Across Central Park's large pond was the exact person he had been praying to get his revenge on. The man's silhouette was faint in the early morning fog. The moon touched the dark purple horizon, slowly disappearing. Sunrise was coming.

The heavens heard him.

They delivered.

Abaddon.

Despite the distance, Kieran saw the obvious signs of an alpha's call for a challenge. It would not be over until death. Good. Things could finally settle between them once and for all. His inner alpha growled when Teru stiffened in his grip, scared to see Abaddon walking towards them. To make his mate react so fearfully...

Teru's nightmares would end before the sun came up. Avania's eldest prince would make sure of that.

A creepy-crawly feeling moved across his nape, a sensation he had forgotten. The lion was moving across his skin, roaring at their rival.

The tattoo was ready.

Pride was ready.

Kieran was ready.

After letting go of Teru, he kissed his forehead.

Stay, he purred and left to face Abaddon, who would never have the sick pleasure of touching Teru again.

Blaise was nearby, too. If Kieran's horndog of a brother wanted to keep his balls intact, Blaise better keep Teru away if he attempted to come between two dominant alphas. Given the intense amount of scentless pheromones, Abaddon would not hold back. It wasn't unheard of for an intervening third party to get killed accidentally.

Neither looked away. The alphas couldn't break eye contact. Muscles twitched and flexed, trying to intimidate the other. They flashed their fangs, dripping pheromone venom. An occasional hiss. This was a classic display of two vampire alphas entering a challenge.

But he and the king were anything but normal.

Their storm of pheromones paralyzed anyone who wasn't dominant enough to withstand the intimidation. With the distance closing, the pressurized air was like forcing two repelling magnets to touch. Abaddon's every step jolted the ground as if his feet had the strength of a tectonic plate. The ice blanketing the water split into large shards from the mini earthquakes. Sleeping birds honked and flew away, spraying loosened feathers everywhere. The city's outline was ruby red underneath the indigo sky. One by one, the stars faded. The ocean breeze whisked away the few remaining snow clouds. It seemed the heavens wanted to watch, too.

They stood with several body lengths between them, not going any further. Keep the protocol. Remain calm.

"Pride." Abaddon eyed Kieran's scarless nape and the animated lion growling underneath his jawline. A sin's symbol became alive when its bearer was provoked, moving on whatever limb it was on. Humans who saw the living tattoos once thought they were demons and witches, to magicians and CGI artists. The latter was an interesting era.

Now, mortals knew it to be the deadly sins. The truth.

"Abaddon," he greeted with gritted teeth. The bastard's frazzled appearance made him curious. Obviously, someone made him like that.

"I see you're here to return my property. He's more crafty than he looks. And we were just starting to have fun, too. It's a shame my alpha couldn't finish mating with him."

Kieran growled low. The sound was long and drawn out, a definite warning. How dare he!

Abaddon's heterochromia eyes gleamed with perversion. He reached around and pulled out a large white harness from his back pocket. Old blood stained the threads. Kieran didn't know the significance behind it and raised an eyebrow. When the blood's scent reached his nose, his upper lip curled into a snarl.

It was Teru's blood.

He heard a distressed whine. Kieran glanced quickly behind him. His omega should be resting on a sofa, wrapped in blankets, and eating healthy foods while watching a lighthearted movie. Instead, Teru stood on a freezing sidewalk with blue-toed feet in the middle of a godforsaken park, in anguish at seeing the animal accessory. Teru was trembling; not from fear, but from anger. Kieran felt him grieve over the leather collar.

Abaddon snickered and brushed his luscious hair to the side with triumph, enjoying the turmoil he was causing others.

Kieran couldn't help but make assumptions: the diamond-studded harness, the dried blood, Teru's scratched face and upset reaction, Abaddon's satisfaction at the victim's response...

Kieran's fangs throbbed, growing thicker from Pride trying to break through. His face darkened. His green eyes glowed from the fury heating his core. If Charles were here, he'd smell the wrath radiating from Kieran in tidal waves.

The words he said next came out without him thinking. "Did you force my pregnant mate to wear that monstrosity? Like a mutt?" Pride seethed, despising the disgusting scene playing out in his mind of what he believed had happened:

Abaddon unnecessarily used his alpha strength to hold Teru down on the cold floor, pinning him between his legs. Though Teru cried and fought back by scratching at Abaddon's arms and face, it wasn't enough. The harness was strapped and locked. Several strands of his soft black hair were pulled out. The assault put the fragile bump at risk of abdominal trauma.

"Kieran!" Teru wailed, pulling at the tight leather leaving marks across his face.

"He's not here," Abaddon drooled over him. "He's dead."

As Kieran thought about the fucked up vision, Abaddon looked over at Teru's belly. "Pregnant? My omega is pregnant? By whom? By what alpha? Surely not...," he was silent, disbelieving the possibility, "not by your seed? Halflings?"

The last half of his pointless questions fell on deaf ears. The words uttered by Abaddon, 'My omega. My omega. My omega,' bounced in Kieran's brain, making him see red. Perhaps it was his inner alpha, maybe his instinctual clinginess to be close to his destined one, or his hurt pride for not protecting Teru. It was likely all.

He's my omega.

Remaining calm wasn't possible.

Kieran struck first, fangs aiming at one spot in particular.

Abaddon did not expect the sudden attack.

You see, a proper alpha should agree to the challenge first by declaring it. Kieran never said 'I accept,' which was why the physical fight never started earlier. If one failed to follow these respectful procedures, their reputation would be defamed. A pure-blooded royal alpha illegally starting the challenge like an ill-mannered dog from the shit-stained sewers? Oh, the scandalous whispers! Oh, the fall from grace!

Fuck being a proper alpha.

Seriously, fuck everything that made Kieran posh and aristocratically perfect.

This went beyond personal.

The rules no longer applied.

It was war.

Abaddon was unable to avoid the crunching bite into his scent gland. A feral Kieran chowed down as hard as he could, jaw locking into place. Blood streamed down his chin. It splattered in all directions like a gruesome murder scene, getting soaked up by the sparkling frost. The king snarled and kicked repeatedly at Kieran's stomach to get him to let go. He attempted to bite Kieran's jugular, teeth clacking loudly. But the angle Abaddon was held in wouldn't allow it. Mint pheromones spread through Abaddon's upper body. It was the most humiliating move an alpha could inflict on another. Kieran would know. He had to experience it when that Lucas kid did the same.

More.

More.

Abaddon deserved more than just an invasive pheromone shot to his gland.

More humiliation. Not done.

He knew what he had to do next. It would ruin Abaddon's pride. Kieran was a deadly sin, after all. He knew these things, what made someone's ego soar and what could tarnish it. He existed to single out these motherfuckers and destroy them so Lucifer, Satan himself, could play with their souls over and over again in the hellfire. Eliminate the sinners who smelled of rotten flesh. Cleanse this post-vampire society of wicked and evil. Accept Humility as his other half. Make it safe for Teru. Protect and care for his mate.

His symbol roared silently on his nape.

I am Pride.

The struggle forced them to the ground. Their guttural sounds resembled fighting wolves. Hard soil exploded from the landing. Kieran dug his face deeper into the crook of Abaddon's neck, ignoring the searing pain of his stepfather's long nails shanking his torso. Some of his own organs were internally bleeding. The damage would've sent him out of commission just mere hours before because of his pathetic condition.

Jokes on them.

Kieran could now heal in a blink of an eye. His bloodline was superior in this aspect. With every jab to his body and rib-breaking kick, the bruises, broken bones, and stabs closed in seconds. It was almost sad how Abaddon didn't get the picture that his attempts were moot.

Kieran's fangs grazed a plump object. There. The sharp tips snagged it. When he whipped his head back, his teeth yanked out the scent gland with it.

POP. The sound gushed when it detached from Abaddon's body.

The smaller-than-average purple gland thudded to their feet and rolled into the pond. Abaddon's animalistic howls quieted the nearby riots. The pain should be immense. A vampire's entire organ would take a while to regrow. Not only that, but a good-sized chunk of the king's neck and shoulder was gone. Kieran stood up and spat out the nasty piece of stringy flesh.

Pride was feasting on the sight of Abaddon writhing. The scentless pheromone's pressure shut off. Not a trace of it was left, which was odd. If an alpha lost their scent gland, there'd always be a faint smell regardless. It was part of who they were, their identity. For Abaddon, there was absolutely nothing, giving zero indication he was ever an alpha. Kieran's inner sin analyzed the critically-hit pride oozing from the bastard. It whispered its secrets in his ear, betraying the ex-angel.

I see. Without your scent gland, what makes you an alpha now? Until it grows back? That's not a real alpha. An alpha is more than just their pheromone gland. That's your weakness. Your pride is to make others believe you are at all times.

Abaddon stumbled up, clutching his injury to stop the bleeding. Kieran changed his stance, ready to take on anything thrown his way.

But something distracted Abaddon.

What could be more important than the challenge-?

"He's mine!" Abaddon snarled. "Legally, the omega and his unborn pups belong to me! No matter who wins, the end results won't matter...Stop! If you ignore me, I will order every soldier to find you, dead or alive!"

Who was he talking to-?

Kieran saw Blaise and his blood slave ways back. Lucas was holding Teru's hand, trying to coax him away from the scene. Teru was shaking his head, not wanting to leave.

Blaise stiffened after getting caught. "Well, howdy, good morning to you, too," he hollered, being sarcastically cheerful. Wearing a pink camouflage military outfit, the pony-tailed vampire pointed up and raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if he had just remembered something important.

"Ah, you were saying something about 'legal,'" he put in air quotes with his fingers, "and 'my omega.' I'm a bringer of bad news, I'm afraid."

Blaise took out a sheet of paper, folded it into a paper plane, and threw it to Kieran perfectly. He caught it in his bloodied fist. Both he and Abaddon were wary about the note.

Kieran unfolded it, which was double-sided. He studied the contents.

It wasn't a note.

It was a photo.

One side was a screenshot of Abaddon on TV during the event's announcements weeks ago. He was holding the contract of Ryoma's ownership to the audience. Kieran flipped it over. The other was a screen-shotted, close-up image of the contract. The words were clear and readable. Blaise had highlighted a specific paragraph in glittery neon purple.

This...

Despite Blaise's promiscuous lifestyle, there was a reason Abaddon hired him to work behind the scenes, micromanaging important documents that passed through each department. He had a talent for noticing the small details and inconsistencies that most would miss at first glance.

Lust had just barged his way into their game of chess, placing his queen piece over Abaddon's pawn piece to capture it.

It was Kieran's turn to play.