Page 3 of Captured By Chaos


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If you wanted to become a leader in the Guard, it would take years of dedication and tests before you would find yourself in your Faction’s Hierarchy of twelve. The top spots were known as the Keturi, the four leaders ultimately in charge of every decision that affected the rest of the Faction. Each Keturi member had two seconds, either Gammas or Treasus depending on if you were Varg Anwyn or Shrivika born, to round out the rest of the leadership team. All twelve members had proven time and time again that they believed in the motto of the Guard.

And after the ten years I had put into making it this far, it still wasn’t enough for the High Faction. Not after what I had done.

“Uuughhhh!” I grunted, stabilizing my weight so I could lean back and kick the bag; apparently, my fists just weren’t enough today.

My breath was ragged and heavy in my chest, my low ponytail clinging to the back of my neck by beads of sweat, but I didn’t care how uncomfortable I was physically—that, I could ignore. It was the gut-wrenching, twisted emotions that I needed to get rid of, that I needed to control. When I wasn’t in control of them, I made stupid decisions.

My muscles seized as unwanted memories passed through my thoughts, desperate to bring me back to places of shame and regret. My movements hesitated, fists still poised in front of me, yet I didn’t jab. I took a few deep breaths in through my nose, jaw trembling, trying to bring balance back to myself. I wasn’t that person anymore; I had changed, I had grown.

My past did not define me. I was stronger than my past.

That mantra had gotten me through the last eight months and had taught me to look forward instead of behind. Yet, it didn’t stop my mind from trying to pull me back into the murky depths that I had fallen to, to convince me I was still the weakened girl I had once been.

My fists unclenched, my shaking fingers instinctively going to my neck, gently tracing the long, thin scar that ran along the left side. To those who didn’t know me, it looked like a battle wound; they had no idea what this mark truly meant. Every day I walked around with my head held high, pretending that I wasn’t ashamed.

Oh, if only they knew…

No, I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I shook my head, letting out a few more frustrated grunts, fists pounding into the training bag that swung in front of me. I let the memories linger for a moment before releasing them through my fists, allowing the impact to absorb them.

A whiff of Lucas and Taylor’s unique scents drifted to me before they even crossed the threshold into the combat training room I’d commandeered. Located on the second floor of our training building, the concrete walls and padded floors were designed for small group practice in hand-to-hand combat. I had wanted privacy, using the warm-up bag that hung in the back right corner of the space.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that they decided to follow me after giving me some time. I was sure everyone wanted to bombard me, but they knew me well enough to realize that would be a terrible idea. So instead, my Gammas came up to me, flanking the training bag, peeking around at me.

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. “Can I help you boys?”

“We wanted to check on you, make sure you hadn’t torn anything to shreds yet.” Taylor smirked, his bright blue eyes gleaming wickedly. He was trying to make me laugh, and it almost worked. Almost.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Kas, are you sure you don’t want to talk about the news?” Taylor asked. Lucas just stared at me, the quietest one between the three of us but always the most intense. The same question burnished his cerulean eyes, matching his fraternal twin beside him—though you might not guess it, as they had few similarities between them.

Where Taylor was well above six feet and a bit lanky, even with the defined muscles he had built over many years in the guard, Lucas was stalky and only a few inches taller than me, his arms twice the size of his brother’s. They had matching russet brown skin and blue-black hair, although Lucas kept his head shaved to the scalp while Taylor preferred to grow it longer, the curly strands secured by a band at the nape of his neck. However, the biggest difference was that Lucas had both arms and his back covered in elaborate, black ink tattoos, and Taylor’s skin was mostly free from inkings besides a few I knew were hidden under his shirt, speckling his torso.

So different in both looks and personality, yet they worked as a perfect unit. It made them the flawless seconds—my Gammas.

“I’m positive.” I turned around, walking to the open, padded space behind me, feeling the weight of their gazes following my every step. “But if you two want to be useful, then entertain me more than that bag was.”

I didn’t need words or talking or opening up. I needed action, I needed a reminder of my strength—and the twins knew it. They glanced at each other quickly, most likely telepathically arguing over who was going to step forward first.

With a heavy sigh, Lucas did, rolling his shoulders a few times before bringing his fists up in front of him, the intricate tattoos decorating his knuckles flexing under the pressure. Taylor stayed on the outskirts of the mat, crouching down and watching us.

“Are you sure about this?” Lucas asked.

I lunged, aiming a few well-timed jabs to his ribs as my answer. He grunted, stumbling back.

Taylor let out a low whistle. “Our girl isn’t playing around today.”

His words drove me forward, a smirk playing on my lips, baiting Lucas. He shook his head, a low laugh escaping him before he attacked, our movements blurring as we sparred.

Some found it odd that I had chosen a set of twins to be my seconds, but I’d never cared. These two men had been a part of my life for years, ever since we met when we were nothing but baby Omegas starting our training in the Guard. After a few months, they’d started calling me their missing triplet, because somehow we had just clicked when we fought together, not even needing our telepathic connection to synchronize as one battling unit. There was no one else I trusted to stand beside me when I took my promotion as Beta, and they had both earned their positions by my side.

The three of us were Varg Anwyns, children of Lunestia, the Goddess of Moon and Hunt. We were born into her line of beings, blessed not only with speed, strength, and plenty of other sharpened abilities, but with our second form—a wolf. Our wolves gave us freedom and passion and abandon. It was as much of who we were in our soul as our human forms. As a Varg, you never felt fully like yourself until your first transformation around eighteen years of age, when your beast broke through and unleashed all of the potential for your future.

My heart lurched, distracting me for only a moment, but long enough for Lucas to get a swift jab into my side. I let out a deep grunt at the impact before clearing my mind, finding my center, and attacking once again.

“You can keep fighting Kas, but just know we’re on your side,”Lucas’s voice filled my mind.

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