Page 45 of Evan and the Alpha

13

Sobek

Dawn breaks, red and wild, as though blood has already been spilled across the day. Perhaps it is a portent. Perhaps the gods are giving us a sign.

It does not matter, for we cannot turn aside fate.

I am barely standing upright, still leaning a good deal on my spear. I’m not sure how I expect to fight my phapha. Despite my barbs yesterday, the old alpha is still spry and fierce; he is hardly in his twilight years.

I understand his desire to wait until I am fully healed. There is no honor in killing a wounded alpha. It is an act of cowardice. Yet he understands the urgency of my predicament. I did not mean for Evan to get with child so quickly. Indeed, I rather suspected it would not take root in him this time. Perhaps he would need many heats.

Perhaps we still had time.

Ah, that was wishful thinking of a child. There is part of me that does not yet want to relinquish my phapha. To have his territory, I must kill him; wounding him is not enough. I am an alpha now myself; I’ve no need of him, not like I did in my younger years, when I was still a beta. When I needed his protection and his guidance.

Still. It will be strange not to have my parents to rely on. I have always been able to turn to them. And now I seek to destroy them.

There is a myth about the sun gods destroying their parents. With their omom, they created the fertile land. And with their phapha, they created the sky, which rains down upon the soil and makes all living things spring forth.

If the sun gods had not destroyed their parents, there would be no land, no sky. There would be nothing from which life could spring anew.

I tried explaining this to Evan, but he seems determined not to understand. I suppose it’s because the sun gods, aware of what they had done, took great caution to ensuretheir children would never turn against them. To Evan, the thought of killing one’s parents is unfathomable.

Perhaps in a world of unlimited resources, such as I presume the kingdom of the sun gods to be, it would make sense that elders could live very long lives. The sun gods are immortal; the sun spirits are said to be very long lived. Wise warriors of the kroakka are said to travel beyond the stars, to live in the hall of Enochtra until time ends and the world is destroyed.

So perhaps Evan doesn’t understand death quite the same way, or perhaps he doesn’t understand that resources here are not boundless. It does not make sense for the old to keep living when it takes opportunity from the youthful kroakka. My phapha has lived many seasons. I am not the first nor the last of his children, and so it would be unkind of him to deny me my own brood.

Yet I may not be a fit alpha. In that case, he’ll kill me. If he does, then it means I would not be able to sire and raise broods; I would be killed or perhaps my offspring would not live to come of age. In that case, my phapha would be much better to do away with me, to raise another in my stead, and hope that their genes will be passed down to the next generation.

We will let the gods decide, of course; we stand now, face to face, in the sandy pit where I killed Nojak to claim Evan as my mate. The crowd this morning is quieter, although many have arrived to witness our battle. After all, it is not every day that an alpha challenges his own phapha.

Evan is still trying to talk us out of the fight. He doesn’t seem to understand this is the only possible outcome. If I do not fight my phapha, I must go find another territory, fight another alpha, and take his life to secure Evan a nesting site.

We do not have that kind of time. And so I must face my phapha.

“Really!” Evan cries beside me, throwing his hands up in the air. “You can just forget it, Sobek, I don’t need a territory. I’m not going to lay eggs, for the last time—”

I’m tired of arguing with him about this. I try to shoo him off; the match time draws near. “You shouldn’t be down here,” I tell him crossly, refraining from rolling my eyes when he pouts and crosses his arms. “You should go rest.”

“I—”

Tiakka, the old kroakka who keeps the books for the omega market, is also the unofficial referee for all matches. He stumps up, adjusting his glasses. He looks at my phapha, then at me. “Someone take the omega away,” he calls finally. “I won’t have a repeat of what happened last time.”

“If I wasn’t here last time,” Evan snaps, rounding on the old beta, “Sobek would be dead!”

Tiakka snorts. “And perhaps that’s what the gods wanted! Maybe Nojak would have dealt with you, you—”

“Enough,” I snarl. I just want this done and over with. “Evan. Go sit.”

Evan frowns up at me, and for a second, I think he might argue. Then his expression firms and he huffs, whirling about and stalking off. I roll my eyes to the heavens. I love him; I will die for him. But so help me Nomantru, he tests my patience!

I turn my attention to my phapha, standing across the ring from me. He looks, at once, both merciless and merciful. I do not believe he wishes to kill me, but he understands that it is our duty to fight. The decision to kill me or not is no longer in his hands; the gods will decide the victor.

He expects the same from me. It is not honorable to show an opponent mercy. Mercy is weakness. It shows disrespect for your opponent, that you believe them so weak as to need pity from you. Mercy suggests you mock them, that you believe they are not at all a worthy opponent. If you are to engage in battle, then you must do so with your whole heart; you must leave only room for victory …

I remember my phapha delivering these words of wisdom from some of the great sages. It would be an insult to him not to enter this battle with the intention to kill. And so, I lower my spear and trust my fate to the gods who now peer down on us.

Terek lands the first blow, nearly knocking me from my feet. He does not hold back; he will not relent just because I am injured. I appreciate his insistence on being honorable. I return the favor by tripping him with my spear.