Fractured Alpha (BxB)

{Twenty Three}

🐺 Pictured above is Zane's wolf 🐺
Through the sheer, azure curtains, splashes of moonlight casted shadows on the wooden floors and formed the illusion of kaleidoscopic constellations on the fur of the wolves.

Zane eclipsed the flecks of fear waltzing in his ruby pools with an unwavering stance. "Zane, don't," Dahlia pleaded with the wolf barren of humanity. He hurled a murderous glare at the shaking girl, whose eyes were glazed over with alcohol and whose wolf was cowering in fear, fear that Zane's lack of humanity would push him to leave her brother at death's doorstep.

The flames of confidence blazed in Zane's blood-hued eyes as wolves, whose fur was an array of juxtaposing brown shades, stepped in beside him. One wolf, however, caught both Dahlia's and Alessio's attention. Fur as black as the canvas painted with silver, twinkling stars and irises in the faintest golden color, the wolf mirrored Aleskei.

Father? Alessio's somber, fearful tone echoed in Aleskei's head. The crack in Alessio's voice hurled a metaphorical knife, smeared with traces of crimson, into Messiah's bloody organ beneath his ribcage, resulting in Malik's eyes glowing in fury.

Aw, does puppy want to play? Adler's wolf, Arlo, prompts through the pack link still attached to his birthright.

What the fuck? Rishad barks out.

Fuck off, Arlo, Aleskei growls.

I gotta hand it to him, though, Arlo says in a breathy voice, his age reflected like jagged shards of the surface of a mirror. He has enough self restraint to prevent himself from strangling me. The tone of his voice was laced with malice and mockery.

Can I kill him yet? Rishad prompts.

I mean, I won't stop you, Aleskei reveals. Shoot a bullet through his fucking head for all I care.

Should I send our best warriors with Aziel, Alpha? Octavius' calming voice floated through the pack link. Similar to golden rays of sunlight seeping through whispy clouds on a hand-painted mural of the hazy, blue sky.

Nah, I'll kick his ass by myself, Rishad swears.

Yes, Octavius, Aleskei says in reply.

I'll send the best warriors of our pack, too, Malik's words flicker through his head like the warm glow of fireflies waltzing across the darkened sky. Zenaida and Xena say they'll be here in a minute with Storm and Steele's warriors.

Thank you, angel, Aleskei retaliated in a soft-toned whisper.

Depressing you have to have backup to prepare for battle, Arlo taunts his son.

Seems only fair. You have backup, Rishad answers for Aleskei, who shut off the mind link with his bullshit excuse for a father.

Arlo barks out a laugh. Okay, I'll give you that one. But you have weaker fighters.

Even though he didn't say it specifically, all of his pack members knew Arlo was referring to Aleskei, who hasn't trained properly in more than a year. Although he has endured years of training, he hasn't engaged in a battle, apart from the battle fought in Alessio's mind.

Eclipsed from battle, he hasn't stepped onto a battlefield and breathed in the repulsive scent of blood adorning the soil the lifeless bodies draped upon, but Rehan has. Being the son of the greatest warrior their pack has ever seen, Rehan grew up amidst the scent of the liquid coursing through the veins of a living being. Whenever Rehan was smeared with crimson, during the aftermath of a battle, Alessio was shielded away from the grasp of pain.