Chapter Text
As the heir.
The eldest.
This was the best outcome.
An alpha was regarded as the top of the food chain, a hierarchical privilege was wired into their blood and there was a natural obedience and submission from other people whenever an alpha with prestige existed in their sphere.
Landon flourished as an alpha, the most flawless one with power that radiated from every effortless move.
He was graceful and dangerous.
Enigmatic to everyone that didn't truly know him, and they were drawn to his charisma. He grinned with sly hints of his fangs behind his lips, sharp canines that were all alpha. Dangerous and ready to pierce into a mating gland for a mate bite.
But no one would truly ever be granted his eternity. He was untouchable which meant unattached.
An omega can be the prettiest doll, the most elegant of ladies, or lords, but he wasn't tempted to cherish anyone forever as an alpha. He fucked with no lasting impression of anyone and the emotion was only lust before he released it all so he was an empty void again.
Omegas swarmed around him relentlessly, craving his attention even for a split second.
Blissfully unaware that he would ruin them for anyone else.
No other alpha would ever handle them the way he did, fuck them to utter oblivion that they hardly remembered their own names in the aftermath and only looked at him with reverence or fear from the realization that this short-lived passionate attention would never occur again in their pathetic lives, but he was still irresistible to them. They should know better by then, but they were persistent flies led to a honey trap.
It didn't matter if the honey was poisoned.
A mere drop would satisfy them. Then drive them to the brink of madness. Because Landon never granted anyone a second time.
After a taste, he was bored.
Half-way through a fuck he started become more aware of a person's flaws or their dullness but a hot mouth or hole still worked him to completion then that was when he made his leave not feeling any more alive than he had before.
Sex is a conditional thing. Something he does for the height of his instincts and because he would never touch himself with any of the passion other people did. It didn't excite him since he was meant to be worshipped.
A daily occurrence at any hour of the day so he's standing in an empty classroom with an omega that followed along for the thrill of serving him.
"You ever knotted anyone with this beautiful cock?" The omega is on his knees, but seems more interested in talking than sucking Landon's cock, and it's ruining whatever was left of the mood.
Landon hadn't liked the way this omega sounded whenever he was humming in delight so egregiously, so it had been a lost cause from the get-go.
But Landon's cock doesn't get the memo.
It doesn't wilt from his waning interest. Hard and leaking, it wants a release.
"No," he says, masking his annoyance. But his hand nudges the omega's head so he'd get back to it but his mouth still isn't stuffed full so he's talking again like a chirping bird.
"If you ever need an omega for your ruts," he says all shyly but purposefully. "You can call me up anytime and I'll make sure I'm available, Landon, because I know how to treat you right."
"I'll keep that in mind," Landon says though he's forgotten this omega's name so he won't be calling him. And he doesn't listen to suggestions. If it isn't his own idea then he doesn't plan to follow through with it. But the omega hums pleasantly like he's won and finally goes back to sucking Landon's cock.
The orgasm happens with no warning but the omega swallows and stares up in want of a reckoning. But Landon tucks himself back into his fly with a smile then walks out of the classroom.
*
Alphas were dominant by nature, so Landon didn't extend any true effort into commanding the Elites.
Listening was in their bones, but his own siblings were the ones that had flights of rebellion, but he lays off Brandon because he was only being an older protective brother whenever he followed Glyndon to the Heathens Mansion. Or anywhere those thugs hung out for fun that didn't involve chasing prey around in their made up initiation nights.
He fully doubted anyone was ever properly trained to join the Heathens as genuine assets and were only there to attend their lame parties for the horror fans. He did wonder if the Heathens ever killed anyone or if they merely let loose their violence and captured their victims for the initiation. Despite his curiosity, he never risked going. Instead he sent Cecily. She was always so ready to obey his every command, though he lightened up his tone to a more gentle crooning sound.
A beautiful omega with green eyes and silver grey hair wasn't that hard for him to act sweet with if only he wanted to tempt her further. He truly wouldn't have minded fucking her either but again, he never wanted to be at the center of any mess that he was responsible for with no one else to clean it up for him. The blame would land fully on him with no one to shift it to. Cecily was too beloved by her father and other Elites so Landon let that interest go. Though she was still infatuated if the blush on her cheeks meant anything.
She returned from the night with pictures of the warehouse used as the rendezvous for the initiations, and the cameras around the perimeter of the mansion.
He praised her just right in his McLaren as she sat in the passenger seat, flooding the car with her lavender scent. Touching the hair on her head and tucking a few strands behind the shell of her ear.
"You're the toughest girl I know," he says. With some sincerity. She withstands Landon's presence more than anyone else without jumping on him for sex.
"I hope any of it is useful," she says demurely, head slightly ducked but she stares at him in the face. She had the backbone needed for a mama bear and her maternal instincts reigned beyond her being an omega. It was just in her nature to care for others that needed fending. A useful trait to manipulate honestly.
"So, you found the checkpoint all on your own?" He asks with slight awe. She blushes brightly. Maybe one of those Heathens caught her. He thinks about how he should feel. Outraged that one of his was touched by some bloody lowlife or proud that Cecily was remarkably unscathed from the ordeal.
"Yes," she says but she starts to fidget. "There was an alpha." She sounds guilty but Landon doesn't visibly react as he tightens up his emotions and shows her an expectant look of patience. "Well, she...she found me and brought me there but I remembered the routes."
"A female alpha?" Landon asks, needing to know more about the Heathens line up. He was sure there were only three alphas. Volkov, that mutt Sokolov and Killian though he was the worst example of one to exist.
Cecily isn't as forthcoming with this since she purses her lips and moves slightly away.
It was considered disobedience of the highest offense from her but Landon merely breathes in and out his nose to relax.
The anger creeping in isn't because he has any attachments to Cecily. He doesn't really care if she found someone to fuck, the possessiveness isn't that of a sexual nature but rather the thought that another Heathen has sunk their claws into his Elite.
They all belonged to him, no matter how insignificantly resourceful he deemed them to genuinely be.
"Thanks for being so brave for me, Cecy," he says instead of pushing. He'll find out eventually. No one in the Mansion, under his roof and under his nose kept secrets from him. And he pretended not to notice her relief. It was amusing that even the one most besotted with him was afraid of his reaction.
Deep down they all were aware of his true colors but fell for every bit of his charm anyway.
*
The Heathens Mansion was secure with patrol guards that had rotating shifts and stood at their posts with actual rigid postures befitting of a military regime.
But Landon bypasses the cameras and sneaks through this underworld fortress with the map he recieved from Cecily and his heart thumps from excitement.
His feet are soundless as ever and his long limbs takes up space in a short amount of time it would take anyone else so he's quickly already near the wall of the building.
Climbing up with his masterful hands doesn't alert anyone or sound off any alarm so they truly didn't have a security system other than those guards and the cameras to catch any thief.
Once he's made it to the balcony of some room, he hops right on over and stands there for bit in the sheer awe of being able to invade a place that seemed to be highly dangerous for outsiders. Of course his sister was able to come and go as she pleased but she had her boytoy to gain access in certain places. The only reason why he didn't use Glyndon for anything was because she was his sister and well. Her loyalties were too split. That damn Carson needed to be six feet underground soon.
Which is why he's here.
Pest control.
He sighs, and the breath comes out foggy because of the chill of the night but his chest sears with something hot and pleasant. It's been so fucking long since he's done this. And now he has an excuse. A reason that will make it less a crime and more of an obligation.
He needed to protect his sister. Glyndon was too ignorantly naive sometimes. An alpha had lured her into his arms with promises he wouldn't keep. Landon was an alpha so he knew better. His mind is already warping the series of events so he'll have a proper explanation to give if he's caught. But he doubts he'd be figured out. It's all too perfect.
Creeping closer to the window of the room, blacked out by a curtain, he can't peer in and see anything, but he retrieves his lighter from his pocket and flicks it on to use the small flame to examine the panel for any overlooked security camera.
Impatiently he just takes out a knife and starts picking the lock, though the window slides open with ease at a mere touch. Sensing a trap might be in place, he stills.
This bedroom should be empty. He counted all the bedrooms over the floor plans, and the security cameras were definitely placed there to protect whatever rooms were occupied by these mafia heirs and this one had no security.
For a long second, he hesitates.
Then, he becomes angry at himself because so what if someone's in here, he'll finish them off while he's at it, before burning this mansion down to the ground, so it's all ash and grime.
Entering the room silently, he has his lighter still on but his heart is thumping more wildly.
The sensation encompassing the room is oppressive.
The might of a chill that comes from an endless abyss with no way out.
A vast silence adds to the eerieness.
His small flame almost slips from his grasp at the gripping cold.
His breathing seems too loud in this space as it disturbs the rest of some monster.
At that realization, his mind immediately starts calculating different scenarios to overcome and his lighter is almost thrown in a frenzy due to his survival instinct but a hand wraps around it suddenly in a crushing grip, and the lighter is held tightly between his own fingers, so he doesn't accidentally burn himself.
But his hands are now clammy.
A shuddering sigh, the calloused fingers digging into his wrist so it's a fragile bone that can be broken with a snap adds to his panic but the figure moves closer.
The flame illuminates the monster's face.
Jeremy Volkov stares back at him from the dark with an orange glow casted over his brutal face. The sharp edges now shadowed by the silhouette of the flicker of flame and his grey eyes are sparked.
"King," he says in a rumbling voice of one displeased dragon that's woken from it's slumber. But he's too alert. His eyes are too sharp. He's been waiting.
This had been a trap.
And Landon should have known this was all too fucking sweet and easy.