“Should we eat something before we go?” Vera asked.

She’d been acting strange all day in the hours leading up to the Omega Selection. Rayner smelled her nerves but chalked it up to what they were about to witness. After two weeks of living with her, he thought he was beginning to understand how to decode her expressions.

“Trust me, you won’t want to have anything in your stomach for this. You’re sure you want to watch?” he asked, double-checking for the countless time that evening.

Vera nodded tightly. “Let’s get this over with.”

They reached the great amphitheater that had been built into the northern wall, the view into the pit blocked by the large slabs of stone surrounding the perimeter. Rayner escorted Vera to the main gate, curious to see her reaction to this piece of architecture. The shaped rock looked almost natural, yet it provided acoustics without the need for artificial technology. Stopping just inside, he allowed her a moment to look down to the huge oval dirt floor. The terraced stone seats were filling fast, and the crowd jockeyed for positions.

At her gasp, he smiled. She pressed herself closer to him, looking around. “How many people can this place hold?”

“Well over a thousand.” A swarm of clan members crowded in and pushed toward the front in an effort to find the best seats for the main event. It was completely unnecessary as the design guaranteed anyone there would be able to see and hear everything, but the excitement overwhelmed logic, and the crowd continued pushing for positions.

Rayner led her to a boxed-in area to the left where he’d arranged for a handful of trusted guards to keep the human women safe. He’d insisted on extra security during the week of planning prior to the event, knowing an Omega Selection was bound to cause emotions to run high.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and bent to speak in her ear. “I’ll meet you here when the ceremony is over, all right?”

He’d already explained to her how he couldn’t stand with her during the ceremony. His duty as Beta dictated his presence be with Kaveh and the royal family.

At that moment, Niva spotted them and squealed. She ran over to throw her arms around Vera’s neck. “You’re here!”

As Vera disentangled herself from the enthusiastic young female, who looked happy and well-kept in her long dress, she met Rayner’s eyes. He gave her a slight smile before nodding to the young guard standing watch. The other women arrived, huddling around Vera—their leader. Knowing when he was outnumbered, Rayner left the boxed area and made his way to the Alpha’s viewing platform near the bottom row of the pit.

Gerrit and Nestan waited there, dressed in formal white like himself, with added gold and crimson embroidered necklines and hems distinguishing them as high-ranking royals. Caj, Gerrit’s younger brother by a couple years, stood at the platform’s rail, leaning over to stare at the gated entrance where the prisoners would enter. Gerrit spoke quietly to Nestan, who sat stiffly, staring down at the arena.

The heir met Rayner’s gaze as he entered the platform, eyes tightening slightly in greeting, and returned his full attention to his half-cousin. As Savas’s son, this had to be hardest on Nestan, and Rayner’s heart went out to the young man.

Before Rayner could approach the conversation, Kaveh entered the platform from the small door set into the stone benches behind the platform. The old Alpha stood tall despite his moon madness, his royal attire widely decorated in curls and spirals of crimson and gold. The moment the crowd spotted their Alpha, they began to howl and stamp their feet. The very stone of the mountain seemed to tremble with their fervor. Kaveh’s gaze settled briefly on Rayner, then slid away without a word of greeting.

In the week leading up to the Omega Selection, an icy distance had fallen between Kaveh and Rayner. He couldn’t blame his Alpha; Rayner had counseled for Savas’s death.

Taking a deep breath against the guilt, Rayner hurried to a spot at the right of the platform, just behind Gerrit and Nestan, where he had a direct line of sight up to the secure area where Vera and the others sat.

Kaveh raised his arms, and the dull roar filling the amphitheater tapered to a low buzz. His voice carried easily from the platform to the farthest seats. “My fellow Vilkas!”

Rayner squinted toward the humans, unable to distinguish Vera from the others. His chest had a hollow ache, and he yearned to have her at his side. Yearned for her grounding presence, especially now when the clan was about to regress to one of its more primitive rituals.

“As your Alpha,” Kaveh continued, “there are many duties which fall to me. Most are a privilege, and I count it a blessing to be called upon to lead this illustrious clan. But at times, there are matters so grave that there is no solution other than the old ways. Ways that make us more animal than man.”

A rumbling growl rose and fell through the theater.

“We are a progressive people, seeking fairness and justice for all who live within our walls. We do not begin wars, but we have no qualms about ending them with a decisive and unquestionable victory. In that same vein, we must deal with internal strife. With criminals who threaten our existence by flaunting our most base nature. Who give us no choice but to mete out this ancient, savage justice.”

Kaveh raised his hands and the crowd’s voice swelled, howls and drumming shaking the stone beneath Rayner’s feet. The Alpha certainly understood how to command a crowd. But Rayner knew his Alpha well and could see the nearly microscopic twitching of the flesh around his eyes and the way he planted his feet a little too wide. It was taking everything Kaveh had to keep himself together. He was easing into the final stages of his moon madness.

The Alpha lowered his arms in the signal to begin, and the noisy crowd grew silent on a breath. It was time.

Savas stumbled into the dusty basin with his hands tightly cuffed. A heavy collar hung from his neck, its inward-pointing spikes drawing pinpricks of blood that trickled down the man’s naked chest and shoulders. On the left, Drausus was presented in the same manner, his sharp nose bent at an odd angle, his lips and chin coated with a bloody crimson gleam. He too wore a collar that would prevent him from shifting into his Vilkan form.

Even from his seat on the platform, Rayner detected the stink of fear drifting off both men. Sweat prickled his skin. Had he made the right choice in recommending the Omega Selection? He darted a glance up toward the small cluster of humans, reminding himself of what Drausus had done. How Savas had ruined these women’s lives. This was the only way to stop men like that.

As if he’d read Rayner’s mind, Savas lifted his chin directly toward the Beta, face contorted by a savage snarl, and his body rippled and stretched. The shift was halted almost before it began by the prongs of the collar, causing the Alpha’s half-brother to howl in pain.

Nestan winced, but the young Vilka with a drop of royal blood did not turn away as the crowd erupted again, banging and shouting. Hooting and cajoling. Crying for blood. Rayner had expected their bloodlust, but their fervor for the ceremony to begin exceeded even his careful predictions.

Kaveh motioned for silence. “The Omega Selection is one we do not take lightly. Our system is arcane, as old as any of us remember, older than when the great Avilku broke out of his animal form and found himself standing on two legs. It is a necessary and just punishment for the crimes these men have committed against me, against their brothers and sisters in the clan, and against the human women amongst us.”

At the last crime, a murmur went through the crowd. More than a few heads turned and stared straight at the guarded area. The rising murmurs were not sympathetic. Some even jeered. Rayner made note of those he recognized. All of them were Savas’s loyalists. He’d look into them later.

“Drausus,” Kaveh boomed, “you are charged with the crimes of treason against your Alpha, insubordination against your Beta, theft of military property, and the assault of a clan-protected servant. It is with my full authority that I decree you will fight in the Omega Selection.”

Drausus lunged against his bindings, bloody spittle dripping from his lips. Rayner ground his teeth, glaring down at the unrepentant man in the arena.

Kaveh swung his gaze to the right, his shoulders stiff as he confronted his half-brother. “Savas, you are charged with the crimes of high treason against your Alpha, leading a mutiny and insurrection against your Beta, theft and destruction of military property, abduction, and the intent to engage in the illegal practice of the flesh trade.” The leader’s voice developed a brittleness Rayner hoped no one else could hear. “Despite my love for you, I cannot overlook these crimes. Your insolence has gone too far. It is with my full authority that I decree you will fight in the Omega Selection.”

Savas stood unmoving, his eyes distant, which Rayner found far more unsettling than Drausus’s rage and bluster. As guards approached the prisoners to remove their cuffs but not their collars, as fighting in their human forms was another form of degradation, Rayner scanned the crowd, distressed at the level of excitement he saw among his clan.

The fever for death rolled through the shifters, their cries and howls a wild cacophony of noise. A couple of scuffles broke out among the benches, and Rayner once again checked on the humans huddling in the higher levels. His guards had instructions to move the women to safety should rioting erupt.

Kaveh sat heavily, his back unnaturally straight as he faced the arena. Under normal circumstances, Rayner would have gone to his Alpha and provided the solidity of a Beta’s presence, but he didn’t think Kaveh was in the mood for his company. Young Nestan also sat with rigid and forced attention, his normally jovial face pale and lined. If only the rest of the crowd would take this ceremony as seriously.

In the ring, Savas and Drausus circled each other. Snarling, Drausus batted a hand at Savas, the meaty sound of flesh on flesh reverberating throughout the space. Rayner knew from their many sparring matches that Drausus didn’t have the temperament for a long-game strategy. He was impulsive, with little forethought given to his movements. As the men circled and swiped, Drausus kept opening his guard to lunge at Savas.

Savas, predictably, remained patient, conserving his energy and stepping away only far enough to avoid the brunt of each attack.

Rayner dissected the moves as a means to escape the horrible reality of a fight to the death. Assessing the flaws and strengths of each man, each move, as if he could call it off the moment the fight got out of hand.

Then Drausus struck too far left. Savas stepped into the move, swiping a foot under his opponent and knocking him back. Drausus shuddered and rippled, signaling he was about to turn.

Savas had been awaiting this moment. He’d just needed a moment for Drausus to be preoccupied. Savas’s hands partially shifted, his nails stretching into long, black claws. He leaped onto Drausus and dug his claws deep into his ribcage.

A yowl of pain cut through the air. The stadium exploded with fevered shouts and Vilkan howling as if the crowd had joined the combatants in a partial shift. The tiers of seating roiled and swayed with jostling viewers, thickening the air with sweat and frothy excitement that made Rayner’s stomach churn. This had not been his intent when recommending the Omega Selection. He’d wanted his clan to see the folly of the old ways. To experience the horror of an uncontrolled, hungry animal waiting within each of them. Instead, they seemed to revel in the violence.

Rayner had made a horrible mistake.

In the pit, Savas dragged his opponent closer, fangs exposed.

Drausus twisted. He narrowly missed the clash of Savas’s teeth. In a desperate move, Drausus tucked his legs and flipped Savas over his head. The illegitimate royal landed on his back with a ground-shuddering slam. His claws released Drausus, and the younger Vilka attacked. His claws raked across Savas’s exposed stomach.

Savas yelped, blood spraying the air. The carnage seemed to drive Drausus into a frenzy. Roping cords of saliva hung from his mouth as he lunged at Savas, snapping at flesh and limb for any bite he could land. He drew more blood in his mania but hit nothing vital as Savas blocked each move.

Drausus grew so focused on getting another taste of flesh that he’d completely dropped his defenses. When the Vilka reared back for another useless lunge, he exposed his throat.

Savas sliced through Drausus’s skin with such an easy effort it was perverse. Arterial blood jetted from the wound.

Drausus collapsed, gurgling on the packed dirt, both hands clutched to his throat.

Savas faced the downed man, his golden eyes aflame. Blood still dripped from the wound in his abdomen, darkening the churned dirt. The crowd had grown deathly silent as if a single enormous beast was holding its breath for the final blow.

Drausus thrust a hand out toward Savas. “Please,” he begged, the words wet and choking. “Spare me. Please.”

Savas pounced, and Drausus’s screams took on an edge of insanity, his limbs flailing as Savas closed his jaws over Drausus’s face. The screams cut off. With a shake of his head, Savas ripped the flesh free.

Swallowed it.

Then Savas continued feeding.

Rayner cursed under his breath. If Savas had had even a sliver of humanity left in him, the fight had ripped it from him. Savas was broken.

The crowd murmured in half-hearted disgust, but their eyes devoured the sight as if they couldn’t look away. Savas, however, seemed to have attention only for Rayner, staring directly at him, a rope of entrails hanging from his mouth. The Vilka chewed a few times as if daring the Beta to tell him to stop. Then he turned his head and stared pointedly at the section of humans a moment before burying his head in Drausus’s entrails once again.

Rayner shivered.

“Why is Kaveh allowing this?” Gerrit leaned back and whispered to Rayner.

Rayner shook his head. He knew exactly why Kaveh was allowing the flesh feeding to happen in front of the entire clan. “He wants to sow disgust for Savas amongst the clan. He wants them to see Savas reduced to eating raw meat, to cannibalism.”

“I don’t think it’s working,” Gerrit whispered, his eyes roving over the crowd. They didn’t look disgusted; they looked hungry. Rayner had to agree with the young heir.

Caj, who’d joined his brother on the end of the bench, spoke up. “I’d rather a Hyla for my father’s brother!”

“Caj, hush!” Gerrit cast a glance at the still-rigid Nestan on his other side.

Without a glance at any of the others on the platform, Kaveh rose and disappeared through the door he’d come from. Nestan leaped to his feet and followed close behind as if he’d only been waiting for permission to leave. Gerrit grabbed Caj’s arm and led his brother away, whispering harsh words into the young man’s ear. Rayner was left sitting alone on the platform, facing the ceremony’s aftermath.

Man or beast, Savas was now the Omega. The lowest of the low among the clan.

Savas lifted his head and howled.

The crowd went wild, a discordant clash of howling, cheering, and booing. Savas stood, hands held wide, chest flayed open in diagonal tears. Barely an inch of skin existed that wasn’t smudged with blood. How much of it was his and how much his opponent’s, Rayner couldn’t be sure. The new Omega strutted about the arena as if he were the glorious gladiator who’d just won the crowd’s affection instead of becoming the dregs of the clan.

Taking that as his cue, Rayner rose and left the amphitheater.