2. Zeus

We fucking did it. We left those cunts in the dust and fucking smashed it.

I always knew we'd get here. Apollo had kept us working non-stop, and Odin and I had trained until our bodies were nearly ruined, and we fucking won first try.

We'd taken on alphas who had been competing for years, guys ten years older than us. It was rare for men our age to win World's Strongest Alpha, especially first and second place, but we had a magic charm that kept us going through all of it.

"Another round of drinks for my new friends! And my mate! We'd never have won without him!" I hollered, my voice bouncing around the bar. I was already half-cut, but we deserved to get plastered.

Seven years of pushing ourselves, and we could finally celebrate.

Apollo burst out laughing as I grabbed him by the waist, hauling him between my thighs, pressing his back to my chest. High on my barstool, he fit perfectly against me. I buried my nose in his neck, inhaling his luscious mango scent. "And thank fuck, eh?" I said, just for him, giving him the look, the one that told him I was going to be balls-deep inside him by the end of the night.

Apollo's tongue creased his lips as he notched his head back to my shoulder, grinning up at me.

If my brother and I hadn't met him all those years ago, there was no way we could have made it here. It wasn't just that we were pack; it was the fact he was as motivated to win as we were.

He grew up learning under his dad, a world-class boxer,and spent years at uni training to be a coach. We were the first and last guys he worked with, and we were so fucking lucky to have him.

I lifted my head, finding my twin in the mess of celebrating bodies. Odin had stuck himself at the end of the bar, deep in conversation with a couple of geriatric alphas. That was his thing; he loved reliving the past instead of living in the moment with us.

Odin met my gaze, letting a smile trace his mouth, raising his pint as he nodded. Pride pulsed through our bond from all three of us, and we fucking owned it.

Odin and I pulled a full-on truck around an entire football field. Each. We literally just grabbed a rope and went for it.

And we were kings for the night.

I'd dragged them both out to a pub where everyone else was headed as soon as we stripped down and cleaned up after the finals. It was either that or fucking Apollo in the locker room in front of everyone, claiming my mate in victory. Though I could still bend him over the bar and take him if he let me…

The animal in me was coming out, my instincts blazing with the thrill of the win. All I wanted to do was fuck and prove I was the real alpha. Except for Apollo. He might have been small compared to us, but he was our pack leader, the true alpha. Odin and I shared him as a mate, though Odin could never get over the fact he wasn't Apollo's scent match, and tried to push Apollo away whenever he got into one of his moods. Odin talked about bonding with an omega one day, but I didn't need anyone but Apollo. Apollo was the most dominant of the three of us, even though he was usually the one sinking down onto our cocks.

We were all here, the top ten contestants, their managers, all our fans, and anyone else who could squeeze into the place.

Apollo's hand trailed up my neck, grabbing my ear lobe and tugging me down for a kiss, both of us moaning as we fell into each other.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home, you won't be walking tomorrow," I growled against his lips.

"That's a given," he said, sending his need down the bond, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"God, I'm so glad you found us," I groaned into his shoulder, my cock already stiff. It felt like yesterday that my twin and I were grungy pack fighters, earning shit cash in the London underground fight clubs. Apollo happened to be there, scoping out the crowd with his dad, looking for new talent. Our scents matched instantly, and we were already biting each other by the end of the night.

And now we were here—a fucking ￡10,000 cash prize for first place, ￡7,500 for second. And we were going to go to South America like we always wanted. The plan was to travel along the coast, soaking up the sun and each other, and doing whatever the fuck we wanted to because we could afford it.

I jerked suddenly, knocked off my stool as another competitor shoved me aside to get to the bar.

"Hey!" Apollo shouted, tipping over with me. I caught myself with a slap of my palm on the bar top, pulling myself up, one arm around Apollo's waist.

I was all pumped up, and we were partying. My alpha instincts were demanding I show him who was the boss, but with my mate against my chest, sending out his peaceful love through our pack bond, I wanted to keep it mellow.

"Come on, man. Be more careful," I said to the beefy alpha who knocked into us.

The look in his eye told us he wanted a fight. It took me a second to place him, but Stan Martin was one of the top ten we'd slaughtered as soon as they narrowed down the contestants. During the shot put, Odin and I got at least three metres on him. But none of that fucking mattered as he looked down at Apollo, his upper lip curling as he sneered at us.

I bit back my need to smack a bitch. "We're celebrating. Don't ruin it by being a cunt, alright? Let me buy you a drink." I grinned, ignoring the urge to grab his face and stop him from judging my mate.

The guy was stacked, but he had nothing on me. There was a reason Stan got knocked out of the competition, and it wasn't because he was a foot shorter than us. It was because he went for bodybuilding, rather than raw strength, and he was so bulked he couldn't even fit between the barstools.

"I don't need a pity buy from guys who cheat," he growled. "It's obvious you're both on hormones. They just couldn't prove it."

A snarl ripped from me. Because how fucking dare he? They didn't know shit about what the three of us put ourselves through to get to the top.

He scoffed, nodding to his left. Two more alphas joined him, Barton and Pud, boring-ass wannabees, both stacked, both of them only getting to the top twenty, and both looking like they were going to kick off.

And, in my testosterone-filled state, I was ready to fucking go.

"I bet you guys are so busy pumping those irons to make-up for your tiny dicks, eh?" I said. "I can't even see any bite marks under all that muscle. I guess omegas take one sniff and drop you."

His face instantly twisted into an ugly scowl. "You smell like fucking fruit; you haven't got anything on me."

I barked out a laugh. "What do you think pretty omegas prefer? Wet paint or passion fruit sweeter than honey. Work it out, moron. You've got nothing going for you."

"Zeus," Apollo sing-songed quietly, his warning filled with amusement that fluttered around him. But his fingers still shot to my lower back, calmness pulsing through the bond, relaxing me. I could feel Odin taking notice from behind us as well.

Stan growled up at me. "How can you call yourself World's Strongest Alpha when you're bending over, taking it from a little bitch like him?"

I was trying to keep it contained, but no one, fucking no one, insulted my mate.

Anger burst from me the instant the words left his mouth. Yeah, Apollo fucked me every now and then, and it was fucking awesome. There was nothing like sharing the love.

"Interesting." Apollo arched a brow, letting his aura seep out as his thumb kept up his soft strokes. "Because there's nothing about any of you three that says ‘alpha'." My gorgeous mate gave him a once over. "I'm surprised they even let you compete with an aura that weak."

I picked up Apollo's baton, pride beating between us as I grinned, baring my teeth.

"Bitch, you couldn't even take me one-on-one. You need your pussy-ass girlfriends to come and help you." I flicked my eyes to the other two alphas. "Poor you."

I loved pissing people off like this. Odin and I won the tournament because of our strength, not our shit-talking, but I was a winner at both. I'd take this guy on to defend my title. I could stay level as long as Apollo was beside me.

Until Stan reached out and grabbed my mate.

I didn't even think. Before he had a chance to wrap his fingers around Apollo's arm, I swung my fist, slamming straight into Stan's jaw. He shot backwards into two guys hanging out behind him, crashing to the floor, breaking a stool as he fell with a crack and a thump.

People jumped out of the way, shouting as they went, while a few looked on in mild interest. It seemed like the kind of place for fighting.

"Back the fuck off!" I growled, keeping my arm firm on Apollo. There was no way I was letting anyone near him. He was mine.

Odin's energy pulsed through the shared bond. I could already feel him moving, but people were crowding in too closely. The twin bond let me sense where he was at all times, and it felt better to have my brother at my back.

I had to get Apollo to safety. I couldn't let him get hurt. He might be our pack lead, and he could handle himself, but my raging instincts were cranking up to the max. Annihilate the fuckers and protect Apollo. That was all that was beating through me.

Pud reacted instantly, his fists flying, smacking me in the shoulder and knocking me back. Apollo yelled out in surprise as I accidentally crushed him against the bar. I didn't need to hear the snap to know he'd broken his arm. His pain echoed in my own arm, and I grit my teeth at the sting. It wouldn't affect my movements, but knowing my mate was injured kicked my instincts into overdrive.

I needed to protect him. My pride as an alpha demanded it.

I shoved myself forward, leaping for Pud, my fist laying straight into his stomach. With my back to Apollo, I could feel Odin pushing through the crowd to reach us. He'd stay with Apollo, and I was enjoying the thrill of the fight too much to stop.

Barton had a go, and even though his swing was shit, he still landed a shot near my throat. Choking fiercely, I backhanded him before he could make another move. It fucking hurt my knuckles, but it was satisfying how he staggered back, clutching his cheek.

I bristled, loving that, even with a broken arm, Apollo was horny as fuck as I fought for him. Odin and I won because of our sheer strength and determination, but it was also to make Apollo proud.

"Zeus!" Apollo screamed, fear thundering through our bond like a terrible storm. I just had time to spin around as the world suddenly slowed.

Horror drenched me as Stan jumped, a leg of the chair he'd splintered stuck between his palms, arms above his head, aiming straight for me.

All I could do was raise a hand as he flew towards me. There was nothing I could do. My gaze fled to Apollo, praying he was okay. He gripped the bar top, eyes wide, colour draining from his face.

Panic blasted through me, and it wasn't mine.

There was a roar, my brother's voice pounding around me as he flung himself in front of me.

All I saw was the alpha's arms thrust forward before Odin's back hit my chest, and we both stumbled to the floor.

I gasped, wind beaten out of me, pain exploding in my face. I thought I'd been hit.

Sandwiched between the beer-stained wooden floor and my brother's thick body, I groaned. Odin slid off me, his back on the floor, and my head turned, landing on his face.

At first, I couldn't understand what I was looking at. Every single person in the room was staring at Odin in shock.

I could hear shouting, feel Apollo's anguish as he dropped to his knees, and I was aware that people were running around me, but none of it mattered.

Because the chair leg… The fucking chair leg…

Blood poured down the right side of Odin's face. His body twitched, mouth flapping, gasping for breath.

And the chair leg was sticking straight up out of my brother's skull.

One breath was all it took, and the world burst around me. Everything vanished as my true alpha unleashed. The primal force that lived inside me was hellbent on destroying whoever harmed my pack.

Everything was tinged red. My mind blown, body shaking, all I was was speed, strength, and pure fucking rage as I flew to my feet. There was no thinking, no considering what was happening. I couldn't even feel Apollo and Odin through the bond.

My pain was so harsh and desperate that there wasn't a single moment of hesitation as I jumped forward and grabbed an empty pint glass next to Apollo. Like lightning, I lifted it, and with a crunch, I slammed it straight into Stan's face—into the face of the alpha who had driven a chair leg through my brother's eye.

Screams erupted from Stan, but it only made me press harder. I couldn't feel anything of my shredded palm as I pushed shards of glass deeper into his mouth, shredding his cheeks and eyes. There was just the deafening agony of Odin's wound reverberating through my skull, along with Apollo's broken arm.

Stan's blood slashed across my face, and the alpha in me surged.

Barton and Pud were already gunning for me, but it was nothing.

In a rogue state, there was no empathy, only the need to kill.

I reached behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of vodka, bringing it straight down onto Barton's head in one smooth arch. There was a loud thud and a crack, and my alpha instincts rumbled in approval. A quick thrust into his neck with all my strength and his spine snapped, the shithead crumpling out of sight.

Pud only had time to flinch before I smashed the bottle on the bar top. The harsh tang of vodka filled my lungs, exactly like the sharp bite of my brother's scent, without his tang of lemon.

Pud had no chance. I thrust my arm out, the thick glass of the bottle embedding deep into his throat.

I could hear the chaos around me, see Apollo bent over Odin, rocking, crying, shaking as he clutched his phone to his ear.

I needed revenge. The chair leg stuck straight up out of Odin's skull and, even though there was a brief rise and fall of his chest, I was already gone. There was no saving me. Rogue alphas could only be stopped two ways, and we didn't have an omega to keep us steady.

I never thought I would go rogue. Apollo and Odin kept me grounded when shit went down with us.

There were special prisons for alphas who went rogue. One incident, and you were thrown in for a year, no questions asked.

Still holding the bottle, I pushed harder, getting straight into Pud's throat, swiping my arm right, ripping through his flesh. All that muscle didn't help him in the end. He choked before his body slackened and he went down.

I shot around to face the bar, and my first opponent.

One more left.

Stan had fallen against the bar top, his mouth open in pain, tearing his fingers up as he pulled out the larger shards of the pint glass embedded in his ugly face. The beta bartender behind him tried to help, but she stumbled backwards, shaking in fear as I approached. "Move," I snarled the warning at her, not recognising my own voice.

I wanted to go slow, make it hurt, but there was no space when the red rage took over.

Lifting my shattered bottle, I jumped at Stan, knocking him to the ground. One stab in the stomach, and his body jolted. Another stab to his chest, then I pressed my knee on his ribs, cracking them. His fear was useless as I raised the bottle above my head, clutching it between two hands as I drove the jagged edges straight through his skull, exactly as he did to Odin. The thud of the glass on the bar floor that knocked through my arms as his skull cracked under me was the most satisfying thing I had heard since the last time I had made Apollo come.

I coughed as I hauled myself up. Breaths short, heart beats erratic, I wheezed as my gaze darted around the room. I needed them; I needed Odin, but there was a gaping hole where my brother should be. Like he'd cleaved, forced himself to separate from the pack bond.

That should have been it. I should have stopped, but my mind was already broken. I had to destroy everything in my path to get to my mate and my brother.

I couldn't see Odin's body through the red haze, and my alpha brain knew he was dead.

My legs trembled as I stood, my wild racing blood suffocating me. There was a shout from Apollo. As I turned, I met his horror-filled stare. Another bulked-up alpha grabbed him around the waist, dragging him away from Odin. Apollo kicked out, elbowing backwards, punching, scratching, doing whatever he could to tear free. Another roar burst out of me as I leapt towards him.

They couldn't hurt him. They couldn't hurt my mate.

There was a crack, a surge of pain, stars blinding me as something solid slammed into the back of my head. A gasp ripped from me, and suddenly, I was falling forward.

Falling.

Falling.

My arm out, reaching for my mate.

Apollo's muffled yells echoed in the background, screaming for me as the alpha who pinned him laughed.

All I saw was the glint of a knife in the alpha's hand before my back hit the floor. Odin's wound vibrated in my right eye, and pain exploded in my abdomen before the darkness took me.

Iroared as I shot out of bed, panic overtaking me as I threw out my fists, trying to find Apollo in the darkness.

"It's okay." Cold hands fell on my shoulders, Apollo's soft voice in my ear. "I'm right here. It's okay."

My heart thundered too loudly to hear him. The beta bartender hit me in the head with a bat before I could reach Apollo, but I was still going. I could take them all on.

I had to get to them. I had to kill the fuckers who stabbed Odin and Apollo, who took my pack from me. I wouldn't stop until they were dead. I'd tear into every one of them until they—

"Zeus." Apollo cut through my fear with his low tone of command, the voice of our pack leader. "Come back," he ordered.

Chest heaving, wheezing, I choked as his hand traced up my back, his finger etching the sharp lines of my lightning scars until he reached the two half-moons below my left ear. His bite, the one he put there twelve years ago to claim me and mark me as his mate.

He rubbed his cheek against my back as he sent me love so powerful I melted.

"Turn around, baby." Apollo tried to stay calm, but I could feel his tension, too. There had been times when I'd lost control after a nightmare and, in my frenzy, I hurt him or Odin, and spent weeks rolling around in guilt.

I fucking hated myself for it. I hated everything about the day I almost lost them.

I twisted my torso, meeting his unsure smile. He was total perfection: gorgeous blonde curls, sky-blue eyes, the softness of his rounded cheeks and thick lips made me fall in love with him all over again as he held me.

"We're here, we're all good." Apollo sketched gentle patterns on my back, and I eased into his touch.

I pressed my palm against his abdomen, sighing in relief as I felt the heavy ridge of the scar where he was stabbed.

There was no blood, no screaming. We were safe.

My gaze jumped over his shoulder to meet my brother's. His face was hard, glaring at me with one stormy-grey eye. His empty right socket, with a harsh gash splitting his face, was a mark of how I fucked up so badly that I'd never be able to fix it.

Odin looked up at me from beside Apollo. Breathing, waiting. He already knew what had happened.

They could both feel it when the nightmares came.

But Apollo and Odin were here, in bed with me, safe in the soft light spilling from the bedside table.

"It's too new," I groaned as I rocked back, letting Apollo wrap his arm around my neck as my head hit the pillow.

He leant above me, my panic dissipating as the memories scattered, drowned out by the love of my mate.

My brother's worry pulsed quietly through our bond, his jealousy a faint whisper under his concern.

I surrendered as Apollo dropped gentle kisses on my cheeks, his fresh mango scent fanning around me, over me, in me.

My heart pounded as the fear gave way to pure fucking lust as my mate loved on me. "It's gone now," Apollo murmured, stroking his bite mark. "It's all in the past."

Five years ago, I sat between two hospital beds, desperately fighting to stay connected to them. Apollo woke up hours after his second surgery, and he fucked up his stitches by dragging himself out of bed to reach Odin and try to bring him back.

And that's when Michael came.

I sighed into Apollo, craning my neck to be closer to him. My passion fruit, mixed with his mango, created a fruity blend that was enhanced by my brother's lemon-vodka scent.

"It'll just take time," Apollo said softly. "Once we're settled, they'll go away again. Trust me."

I clenched my jaw, meeting his wave of love with shame. I nodded, knowing he was right, but it didn't make the pain of the nightmares any less harsh. Every dream was so vivid and real, so it was harder to see that future when I was still reeling.

We only moved last week.

Michael shifted us to a new country every few months with some bullshit mission. We'd never get all the details beforehand, just that we were guarding someone or something that was important to him. It could be a politician or a bank vault, or literally driving someone from point A to B, all while keeping on top of our training. We were in even better shape than we were when we were competing, and we rarely had to deal with anything dangerous. It was the constant fucking moving that got me.

We'd been guarding some omegas up north, forced to stay out on the islands and the oil rigs, to check up on the hosts Michael had sent there. I was so fucking grateful Michael sent us up there two weeks after them, or the omegas would have been dead within a month.

He'd finally approved our request to come to London, though we didn't expect him to assign us to Club Heat.

"Just hold me," I said, reaching for Apollo. I was twice his weight, but he made me feel lighter than a fucking feather as he traced the river of scars that flowered on my chest with his lips.

They started at the back of my neck, streams of lightning that ran over my body, striking through my skin until they burst around my ankles. I was hit three years ago, out running during a storm in Greece. I lay passed out at the side of the road until a farmer found me.

Apollo loved the scars. And thank fuck, because it meant every day his fingers danced across my skin, bringing me back to a place where I knew my brother and my mate were alive.

"It's nearly time," Odin said from his side of the bed. His voice was deep, rumbling through the room as he pushed himself up to sit. New light flooded his side of the bed as he hit the lamp.

He shot me a look. Apollo stilled for a second at the slightest ounce of pain from Odin, followed by Apollo's guilt—it had been that way for years. I'd tried to force them out of it, but they wouldn't let it go. Even after they both nearly fucking died, they were still like this.

Odin was convinced he had no right to love Apollo as I did because they weren't scent matches, and it burned every single day.

Apollo didn't love Odin any less, but the bond between scent matches was fiercer, and Apollo was the only person who could soothe me.

My brother's jealousy was enough of a distraction from the ache of my nightmares.

Odin swung his giant body off the bed and padded towards the bathroom, leaving us together.

I quickly fed my arm to the back of Apollo's neck and pulled him down, kissing away the hurt like he had done for me.

We sighed into each other, softening, bringing ourselves into the moment.

Like he said, it was only our first week here, and it was too new for me to be completely calm. The last time we moved, it took more than a month for the nightmares to really leave me, and even then, I still had the memories that sprung up every time I saw Odin's face. He'd tried a glass eye for three months, but it was such a contrast to his scar that it was obvious it was fake, and he left it behind.

Apollo pulled back, giving me another one of his gorgeous smiles. "Come on, baby, let's get ready for work."