Shielding the Beast (discontinued)

Fifteen | Consequences

Blood fills the lines between the square tiles, flowing into the cracks of the concrete like miniature red rivers. Bodies lay amidst both friend and foe, all of them soaking in a crimson puddle that may or may not have came from their own veins.

The fight lasted until the enemy's tails tucked and their paws were lifted off of Octavian territory. It lasted until there was no one left to kill.

My fur is still wet with scarlet liquid, but the innumerable gashes of claws have been sealed over and healed with not a trace of injury.

The wolves of Asher's pack slowly move away from the sight of carnage, their paws dragging in the dirt as they go; a symbol of their exhaustion.

My eyes roam over the corpses, analyzing their faces as my nose inhales their scents, sorting it from the stench of blood, guts, and death. The smell I find only confirms what the boy claimed before the snapping of his neck-- the Ciane pack.

They haven't forgotten me. Or the Luna they so ignorantly lost.

And now Asher's pack has paid for my actions, has lost lives because of my revenge-starved past. But the guilt won't change it. It won't make it go away.

A hand lands on my canine shoulder blade, startling me but immediately calming me with the warm sensation that follows.

"Here," Asher's voice makes my heart's rhythm falter, speeding it up. Clothes are held up to my nose, and to my disappointment, they're bare of his scent.

Obediently I grasp the folded black and blue materials between my teeth, turning to see Asher's human form standing beside me, already dressed in a sleeveless jacket and jeans.

He removes his hand and turns his head, giving me the opportunity to shift in private.

My bones breaking and temporarily sliding from their sockets is a relief to me, like popping your back after hours without movement; releasing the lactic acid. It takes me only a minute to slip on my given clothes-- black jeans and dark blue shirt whose collar forms the shape of a 'V'.

Once finished, Asher turns back to me, not hesitating to encircle my frame in an embrace. His arms are tight around me, a sense of desperation established by his aura.

He was worried.

My hands slide under his arms and up to the defined blades of his shoulders. The fear of his Lifeblood's death is mirrored in my own feelings, relief all but drowning me.

But our moment doesn't last. The enraged voice that I'm coming to hate steals our attention.

"ASHER!"

From across the clearing his father stalks towards us, his eyes black from anger. Before he even reaches us, his mouth is spewing accusations, all of them causing the gradual growling in Asher's chest to become louder.

Asher shoves my body behind his, stepping between us once again and holding his arm protectively beside me. A strained finger points over my Lifeblood's shoulder, staring me straight in the face.

"That damn rogue has been nothing but a royal pain in the ass since she got here," his dad growls through gritted teeth, barely containing himself within his human body.

Asher's fists clench at his sides, his skin turning white as he replies with a dark, ominous tone, "She's going nowhere. And if you try to compromise that, we're going to have a problem."