Angel Dog

23 Ace🐾 Indulgence

Ace's throat swelled with emotion as he headed away from the animal shelter. Somehow, he knew he'd never see Finn again.

Not in this life, anyway. His ears fell flat with despondence.

The husky-mix walked up the sidewalk a little ways before crossing a crossway. He'd cleverly learned how to use the street paths since living in Bronx's pack.

He then made his way carefully back towards Gypsy's body, which had gained some attention from the passerby's. One person among a pair of young females was several yards away, standing and talking into the box on her phone as she gazed at Gypsy's body with her companion.

Ace lowered his head and flattened his ears, jumping off the curb into a loping run before he halted next to the bruised and bloodied body. The dark red pool beneath it stained the concrete, seeping out from beneath her- and some was smeared several inches across the road.

Oh, no. Be strong, Ace. Be strong, he pleaded with himself, choking back the outraged sobs.

He dragged her body off of the road and into the grass, before lifting his head and looking around.

There was nowhere in sight that the male could find to bury her, at least nowhere respectful enough. He kept his eyes averted from her sightless gaze, tail lowered with pity.

She will never see with those eyes again.

Then, the young black-and-cream dog grabbed her scruff in his teeth again. Her body was already stiffening and losing its warmth. Not a hair twitched along Gypsy's body, in response to Ace's movements.

My beautiful she-dog. My one true mate, that I never got to have. He sighed through jaws that were sunk into scruff.

White and flitting as a dove. Gentle as grace. Fiery as a thousand suns, and yet... You have the love of a million angels in your heart.

I'll bury you beside the lake, no matter how long it takes. No matter what pain it causes.

And so, Ace did just that. He dragged Gypsy over rock, road, grass and hill. He crossed lawns and parking lots, dodged parked cars and slunk around fences. All the while at the pace of an old, broken dog.

Gypsy was not old, but she was broken. From the corner of his eye, he saw her limbs twist to unimaginable angles against the earth. One was attached by skin and sinew, but nothing else.

He felt his stomach grow grotesque and hot with anger. A simmering boil of blame hissed in the male's dark brown eyes. A line of fur lifted along his spine, flared and spiky.

I have to kill Bronx, don't I? Now that North and Gypsy are dead, he'll search harder than ever for a she-dog to build his pack with. Ghost had told Ace everything. And now, Ace didn't know what else he could do.

But... Killing another dog was difficult. And one of Bronx's size... How would he even manage that?

I'll just injure him, and chase him away. That seemed at least half-good enough. I have to get revenge. I won't let him kill another dog's pups, and lead them down the same path.

Ace thought about how he would do it as he dragged Gypsy from the forest tree-line. However, he had to halt before he reached the sand. Digging in dry sand was nearly impossible, since it was loose enough to fall back into all his dig-holes.

I'll tell him what he's done, but I won't let him speak after that. Maybe, for once... Something will go right for us.

After all, Bronx had ruined everything. Ace should've been able to run away with Gypsy and Finn, becoming a family of their own.