120: 3.60 So Kind, His Alpha

3.60 So Kind, His Alpha

That man was Peter, the leader of the rebellion group, much to everyone's surprises.1

Died miserably on the hospital hallway with his head severed cleanly from his neck. Before that, signs of torture was detected from his body — gashes, bruises, glaring wounds — it was a horrendous death, his limbs were torn off his body and a large hole formed on his stomach where the organs within were destroyed. Blood soaked the floor and even splattered up the ceiling. In his death, agony was forever twisted into his face. No one had ever seen such a violent sight before. Even Versatine's soldiers and the Elite Guards, who were recruited through a string of tight procedures and were commended for their exceptional skills, couldn't endure being on the scene for more than five minutes before fleeing to the nearest bathroom to empty their stomach.

The atmosphere in the hospital was somber. They found no clue regarding the culprit, the surveillance cameras were broken and whoever could be the witness had died, leaving them on a dead end. Even though the most wanted man in the kingdom had perished, they couldn't bring themselves to cheer up because…whoever had done this, they were very, very vicious and merciless. It was almost immoral.

Derek had tried to explain to him as mildest as possible, glossing over the mention of blood and corpse. But… he had no idea that Oliver was there. He was right there, listening as Altair silenced Peter forever.

Apparently, after escaping from the cathedral, Peter had once again managed to slip away by disguising himself as one of Versatine's soldiers by taking advantage of the chaotic situation. By then, the guards were more focused on rescuing people who were trapped beneath the ruined cathedral and bringing them to the hospital before everything was too late. The soldier's corpse was found hidden behind the bushes a few hours later, stripped of his uniform and weapon. 

His Royal Highness Prince Altair had protected Prince Oliver with his body and when they managed to dig them out, both of them were unconscious. Oliver merely suffered from mild injuries and light skin trauma but Altair… he had immediately been pushed into the emergency room. His wings were fractured and one of his horns was broken. Not to mention the injuries all over his body; three broken ribs, bone fractures on his right arm and leg, and a larger glass fragment from the rooftop had fallen to stab him right through his stomach. The doctor said that if the glass had stabbed him an inch higher, then his lungs would have been ruptured. He would have died, Derek's eyes were red and his voice trembled as he recounted the event to Oliver. 

Pain. It was so painful that Oliver couldn't breathe. He gasped, fists tightening over the blanket. He was struggling not to cry but the sight of him desperately holding back tears made him look all the more miserable. "Then how…? He had woken up earlier than me and—" Oliver took a shaky breath. He couldn't continue that line of thought. 

Peter had sneaked into the hospital and stayed low, waiting until late at night where the guards mostly had their defense lowered due to sleepiness. He had put some anaesthetic substance into the ventilator and proceeded to kill all of the guards that were stationed on this floor. Maybe his goal was to take Oliver hostage, maybe it was to kill him to declare war against the royalty. Whatever it was, Altair had woken up in time to prevent the tragedy from happening. It was as if he sensed the danger that approached Oliver and dragged his badly injured body down the bed to fight off the intruder. Oliver choked on his breath and hugged himself, trembling. He was biting his lips so hard that it bled, yet none could compare to the bitter ache that spread in his chest. How could he believe Altair when he said that he wasn't injured? Back then, how much pain he was in? How much agony had he been enduring alone? He tried to send Oliver away over and over again so that he would be spared from witnessing the bloodshed.

Always taking on everything by himself and never admitting that he was hurting. So kind, considerate and gentle, his Alpha.

He must have thought that he had scared Oliver, because he had fucking cried. When his Alpha needed him the most, Oliver had turned his back on him. He was so stupid, his cowardly behavior had chased Altair away.

"Your Highness…" Derek pressed his lips together, his eyes bloodshot from both the lack of sleep and suppressing his tears. "Peter… was it His Highness Prince Altair—"

"I know nothing." Oliver straightened up and wiped his cheek. Good, it was dry. Oliver had had enough of crying. No more acting weak and fragile. "So what if it's Altair? So what if it's not? The most important thing is that Peter has died. Whoever has done that, we should send them our gratitude for sparing us the trouble, no?"

Derek was rendered speechless. "...Well, now that you put it that way, that's not wrong."

Oliver nodded and closed his eyes. "You may go."

"Very well, Your Highness." Derek bowed politely. "Please have a good rest and…don't think about it too much. We will tell you if there's any development."

The door closed behind him and Oliver was left to nurture the silence in the spacious room. It was supposed to be a clear night — they had chosen it specially for the wedding — but it was as if the sky sympathized with their plight. It tore the darkness apart with a burst of lightning, fierce and loud. Then raindrops started to fall. Drizzle at first, but then it turned into a downpour in the blink of an eye. The pitter patter of rain hitting the windowpane drew Oliver's attention. He looked out of the window, drowning in his own misery for a few moments before he decided that he shouldn't stay still just like this. Grabbing the coat which he had requested from Derek, Oliver made his way out, giving a flimsy excuse to dismiss the guard then carefully made his way up the emergency stairs. 

The light had returned, shining above Oliver's head as he took one step after another, slow but sure. Why was he climbing the stairs? He had no idea. But his instinct told him to go, that he could find his Alpha at the end of the path. And thus Oliver did.

He shivered as he placed his hand on the doorknob, whether it was from the cold or restlessness, he didn't know. Maybe both. He let out a sigh of relief upon discovering that it wasn't locked. Harsh wind and stray raindrops instantly hit his face the moment he pushed the door open. The sky opened up in front of him, colored by the resplendent sea of lights from across the city. Oliver tugged the hood over his head as he stepped out, letting the chill seep into his skin and bones. "Altair!" He called out, his voice was almost drowned by the thundering rain. "Altair, where are you?!"

There was no answer.

pqdm.com