Second Chances (mxm, poly, mpreg)

Lunar Eclipse 0945: Dust to Dust

Whitebeard Pack 

Sloan rolled to the side and cursed as he fired the gun in his hand. The were howled in pain and fell to the ground in convulsions as the silver and mercury coursed through him. He hated using guns but without his werewolf abilities they were reduced to guns and knives.

All around him werewolves were fighting in their human forms due to the eclipse. Most of the pack was holding their own. The extra combat trainings in human form were paying off.

There was a loud roar overhead and his eyes widened. A giant thunderbird soared above the pack. Fire rained down sending pack and enemy alike running. A transparent green shield appeared over the pack. He was elated. One of the supernaturals had put up a barrier. He heard a shriek and saw the visiting dragon engaging the thunderbird. The older dragon was blasting the thunderbird with fire and whipping at it with his tail.  The thunderbird retaliated by trying to blast the dragon with lightning to no avail.

Quickly getting to his feet, Sloan rushed through the pack-dodging fighters- to get to the packhouse. The ground rumbled as Szymon charged through and stomped on several enemy vehicles. A high frequency screech made him cover his ears. One of the mer was using a sonic scream to push the enemy back. By all accounts they were winning.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom like a cannon. The barrier collapsed and there were dozens of screams. The fairy that was visiting was on the ground with his hands over his face screaming in agony. His blue iridescent wings and skin were melting.

The elf tried to call up water but was shot with an arrow. Black veins spidered their way up the side of his neck and covered his face as he fell to the ground. Szymon nearly reached them when a piece of paper landed on his chest. He tried to scrub it off to no avail. The light went out of his eyes like a slowly dimming flashlight and cracks appeared all over his skin.

"Szymon!" Sloan cried out in horror as the golem began to disintegrate.

The alpha's attention was brought back around him as he heard the scream from the merman. The young fighter, just barely in his twenties, was struck several times in his upper body with salt pellets. Sloan rushed to his side.

The salt was burning through his flesh causing it to bubble and blister. "I'm f-f-fine."

Sloan tried to help him into a sitting position. "Let me help you."

He pushed Sloan with as much strength as he could muster. "S-save th-the p-pack." His eyes rolled into the back of his head as pain overcame him.

Sloan gently laid him down and stood rubbing the tears from his eyes. Anger pumped through his veins. He knew the weres attacking them. They were his own flesh and blood. Why would his father attack now? And why Whitebeard when he knew his son was alpha here? Or maybe he wanted to get rid of the two people he thought betrayed him.

He turned and ran into his oldest brother. His blood turned cold as he stared at the older alpha, a spitting image of his father with more hair and less gut.

"Stop this immediately, Harper," Sloan demanded.

His brother laughed. "Not gonna happen, lil brother."

"This is an act of war."

Harper put his hands on the sides of his face and fake gasped in surprise. "Really? Hadn't noticed." He looked around at the fighting werewolves. "Looks like you're losing, by the way."

Sloan felt bile rise in his throat. How could he be making sick jokes like that. All the needless loss of life. "The council will punish you severely."