Chapter 138: Alpha Beauty Pageant

The late afternoon sun dappled through the canopy, casting long, lazy shadows across the forest floor.

Kael groaned.

The sound was deep and gravelly, scraping against his dry throat. He blinked his eyes open, expecting to see the dirt of forest floor. Instead, he was lying on a surprisingly comfortable pile of large, waxy leaves.

His entire body felt like it had been chewed on by a rock monster. His ribs throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and his skin felt tight and bruised.

He turned his head slowly.

Seated on a fallen log a few feet away was the Snake King.

Syris looked as pristine as ever, his black silk robe unruffled. He was casually picking bright purple berries from a bush and popping them into his mouth one by one.

“Those are Nightshade,” Kael rasped, his voice strained. “They kill a bear in ten heartbeats.”

Syris paused, a berry halfway to his lips.

“I’m not a bear,” Syris commented dryly, tossing the berry into his mouth and chewing slowly.

He swallowed. He didn’t foam at the mouth. He didn’t look like he was about to die. He reached for another one.

Syris ignored Kael’s warning and continued eating. However, his amethyst eyes drifted over Kael’s battered form. There was a twinkle of genuine curiosity there, cutting through his usual bored expression.

“Why didn’t you shift?” Syris asked abruptly.

Kael grunted, struggling to push himself into an upright position. He managed to prop his aching back against a large boulder, his breathing ragged from the simple exertion.

“A cub like that stray from the Wastelands…” Syris mused, inspecting a berry. “He should have been nothing to you. You should have torn him apart. Yet, you fought in that pathetic, weak form. Why?”

Kael looked down at his hands. They were stained with dirt and dried blood—his own and Carik’s.

“I… I don’t know,” Kael admitted, the shame burning his chest more than the broken ribs. “I tried. I called for the beast. But there was nothing.”

Syris raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. It was the first time he had ever heard of a beastman unable to access his form, especially a beast king. He assumed Ren had found Vex and the fox had administered the cure, but perhaps the cure had come at a cost.

He was curious about the process, but he didn’t ask. That would imply he didn’t know everything, and Syris preferred to appear omniscient.

For a moment, they sat in silence. The only sound was the wind in the leaves and Syris chewing deadly berries.

“Where is she?” Syris asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Kael’s heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly who he was asking about.

“Ren…” Kael breathed. “She is at the tree. With the fox.”

He glanced at the sky as he muttered, “She must have woken up by now.”

Syris stopped chewing. He slowly turned his head to look at Kael. The look on his face suggested that Kael was, without a doubt, the stupidest creature to ever walk the land.

“You left her…” Syris said slowly, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss, “…with the fox?”

Syris scoffed, throwing the handful of remaining berries onto the ground in disgust and irritation.

“You possess a singular talent for stupid decisions, don’t you?” Syris sneered. “Do you only think with your ego? You leave my mate with that trickster Vex? Do you have a habit of gifting her to the enemy?!”

Anger bubbled in Kael’s chest, overriding his pain.

“Your mate?” Kael snapped. “She is my mate! I marked her first!”

“And I marked her thoroughly,” Syris shot back, standing up and smoothing his robes. “I have claimed her in ways your feline brain cannot even comprehend. She belongs to the swamp.”

“She hates the swamp!” Kael argued, pointing a shaking finger at the snake. “She hates the mud! She likes warmth! She likes fur! Who wants to cuddle with a cold, scaly tube?”

“Tube?” Syris looked affronted. “I am magnificent. I am wealthy with a palace. And unlike you, I do not shed all over the food.”

“I am stronger!” Kael roared, his ego flaring.

“I am longer!” Syris countered, his pride expanding.

“I have girth!” Kael shouted, gesturing vaguely to his loincloth. “I have the width of a log!”

“I have two!” Syris smirked, crossing his arms. “And stamina that lasts for days, not minutes!”

They glared at each other—breathing heavily.

“Listen to me, cat,” Syris said coldly, his eyes narrowing. “It does not matter what Ren wants. I do not share.”

“Neither do I,” Kael growled. “I will skin you and make you into a waterskin for her.”

“I will turn your skull into her soup bowl.”

Moments later, the bushes rustled.

Viper emerged, looking exhausted and carrying an armful of strange-looking weeds, jagged leaves, and a few questionable mushrooms. Syris hadn’t told him what herbs to get, just to “get herbs,” so Viper had panicked and picked anything that looked vaguely medicinal.

He stepped into the clearing.

Kael, despite his broken ribs and purple bruises, was sitting up straighter than a statue. He was flexing his biceps, his muscles taut and bulging under the grime and blood, trying to look as wide as possible.

Syris, not to be outdone, had loosened the sash of his robe. He had let the silk slide down his shoulders, exposing his pale, flawlessly sculpted chest and his defined abs that looked like they were carved from marble. He was striking a pose that highlighted the elegant, lethal lines of his torso.

It was a Flex-Off.

Kael gritted his teeth, veins popping in his neck as he flexed his pectorals.

Syris tilted his chin up, catching the sunlight on his collarbone, looking like a deity of vanity.

They both heard the twig snap under Viper’s bare foot.

In perfect unison, the two Alpha Kings snapped their heads toward the terrified guard.

“YOU!” Kael shouted, pointing at his own bicep. “Who is more powerful?”

“VIPER!” Syris demanded, gesturing to his own abs. “Who is more pleasing to look at?”

“WHO HAS THE BETTER BODY?!” they roared together.

Viper froze. The random weeds slipped from his fingers and scattered on the ground.

His panicked eyes darted between the battered, rugged, blood-soaked Tiger King who looked like he could punch a mountain, and the elegant, terrifyingly beautiful Snake King who looked like he could seduce death itself.

Viper gulped, sweat beading on his forehead.

He looked at the sky. He looked at the trees. He prayed to the Snake Ancestors to open the ground and swallow him whole, or for a sudden gust of wind to carry him far, far away from these insane, ego-driven kings.

“I…” Viper squeaked.

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