❝ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ?❞
For generations, the Blood Moon Pack and Grave Shadow Pack have been at war, the werewolves from each side bearing high tensions and malicious in...
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How does one kill a god?
That's the question that both of them have to ponder now. Sure, they want to. That's the one thing that, for the first time in their turbulent history, Jax and Cyrus can agree upon. But how can they go about doing so?
When Cyrus had asked him that, once they're already settled in his lame and lackluster office, Jax was ready with a firm conviction to throw back.
"Either we stay stuck under her rule for the rest of our lives or we die trying to break out of it," he says, after a hit from his vape. A billow of white vapor swells past his head of dark hair, faded wisps of smoke hanging off his signature frown. "And I'd rather pick the latter. If I have to spend another minute by your side, I'll choose death over you."
Again, Cyrus gets that. He can't believe he has to agree with him to this extent, but he understands. He'd also rather welcome death's embrace than spend over a year in Jax's presence. Once the hex is cleared, so too will their ceasefire.
"So what now?" While pacing around his boring office space, and with his sunkissed fingers splayed out across a row of books from a random shelf, a thoughtful hum drifts from Cyrus. "How do we kill Luna, if she can even be killed? Can't she just freeze us in place, control our every move, like she did last time?"
As he tilts his head to the side, allowing for his long silver hair to trickle past his shoulder, his hand brushes past the aged fabric of several book spines.
"We can look at history." Jax snaps his fingers, a bold command cutting through the air. "Zeke, bring them to me."
On cue, Zeke comes out of nowhere and bursts through the door, an additional stack of books bundled up in his arms. Cyrus almost jumps at the intrusion, his pulse rising with a sharp throb against his throat. It seems that Jax can't go anywhere without his second-in-command. Way to rely on a guy.
He questions if Zeke ever does anything outside of following all these orders thrown at him left and right. Honestly, he's never met a more submissive alpha in his life. Does he have to get permission from Jax to sleep too? What the fuck is their deal?
Damn, he misses Ram. At least he was able to call him earlier and he'll persist in visiting Blood Moon soon.
Cyrus raises a skeptical brow. "You think reading is gonna get us an answer?"
"I think it'll get us somewhere." As Jax continues to smoke from his bulky vinyl chair, he watches Zeke layer out the books he'd just brought over across his desk in stoic silence, clearly still thinking.
Seeing as though the rest of the books are readily in his grasp, Cyrus decides to help Zeke out because fuck Jax. That's no way to treat a second-in-command, let alone another alpha.
A polite half-smile twitches his lips as he comes up to Zeke. "Hey, need help?"
He can't believe he's doing this. He knows Zeke is simply another Grave Shadow goon that he's briefly fought a few times before and that he shouldn't bother with him, but something about this somehow feels... refreshing. It's a satisfying way of telling Jax off.
