DESCENT

I-He Who Does Not Forget

ALASTOR NYX:

Zeus must be having one of his infamous fits tonight, was what he was thinking with a thin smirk on his face as he watched the rain pounding mercilessly around them, turning the open field dirty with mud and blood as his bare feet tore through the wet ground like a speedy bullet without missing a beat while thunder continued to roar overhead, the dark skies being illuminated by lightning from time to time.

The first night of September was marked as their annual 'friendly' game against the other werewolf packs and Alastor Nyx, like any other year, had only one goal in mind for tonight... and that was to win.

He almost felt... well, for once, not numb.

And that was fine with him.

That was good.

...right?

"Hey, Harrison quit hogging the ball and fucking give it to me!" he yelled, waving his arms wildly to get the idiot's attention.

"Don't call me Harrison!" Alastor's childhood friend, Harrison (though he insisted to be called Harry) yelled right back at him but obeyed at the last second.

The ball was already coated in the dirtand the game was even far from finished—staining his bare chest as soon as he caught it. Alastor swiftly turned a sharp right before someone can snatch it before charging straight towards two gigantic morons, hitting his free hand in their ugly faces, laughing loudly at their pained grunts, reveling in their anger. As he ran, with his heart pounding in his ears, like this, he could forget.

Forget about his brother still missing and presumed dead, forget about him, of all people, being an alpha and all the other shit the elders are putting him through these past few years... because this. This is what he wanted, what he lived for—the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the thrill of a fight.

If freedom had a taste then, this must be it.

The exertion and the violence were both welcome distractions, he was almost tempted to turn and howl in glee.

But it wasn't even four seconds later that some of the opposing team members managed to surround him, so Alastor tossed the ball to Sean, who took it in to score with ease across the field. Harry and Alastor cackled at the disgruntled looks of the other team, fist-bumping each other at the smug smirk their pack's beta sported.

It was common knowledge that the wolves of the Northern pack were fierce, wilder than the rest of their kind. They loved to fight, to play... dirty.

"Go ahead, hail your imposter king," Tony, the alpha of the opposing team, sneered at Alastor's direction when he and his pack mates sauntered past. "Nothing new... your worthless ice pack change alphas like how I—ack!"

Without a word, Alastor suddenly turned and struck the older alpha with a well-aimed punch, ruthlessly hitting him square in the face with a sickening crunch that was his nose breaking.

It had all of the other pack members staring at the scene in stunned silence while Alastor grinned, baring all of his teeth in the process, his brown eyes burning with cold anger as he looked down on the other alpha at his feet.

"You were saying?" he goaded.

Screaming in pain, Tony had fallen on his knees, holding his bleeding nose while the other pack members took on defensive stances around their respective alphas.

"Hm? What was that, old man?" Alastor continued to mock with a sarcastic smile, crouching a little closer in front of Tony, pointedly ignoring the others, "Sorry I can't hear you over the sound of you squealing like a fucking pig."