Fractured Alpha (BxB)

{Twelve}

Sprawled out on the beige carpet was Kenji, his blue-green locks draped across his arm, as silver whisps of smoke and the stench of weed floated through the air, once clouded with the fragrance of white lilies. White lilies were his mother's favorite flowers and therefore, Kenji always kept a bouquet of them perched on the small, coffee table beside the couch. A second bouquet of lilies, in addition, lied on the cobblestone in front of her grave. His father's stone, engraved with a quote he rarely even said but cherished, sat beside his wife's stone, even though they had kept their distance throughout their marriage.

Photos of porcelain skin, adorned with faux smiles and concealed behind a bronze frame engraved with patterns, were hung from the steel grey walls, showcasing the perfect family they had always appeared as in front of others. Kenji was standing in front of his father in the photo, his toothy smile appearing forced.

His father's age was reflected by his dark grey hair, which juxtaposed the flecks of youth coloring Kenji's almost-black eyes.

His brother and sister, Riku and Kyoko, were perched beside him, their chestnut locks seeming out of place next to his hair dyed a vivid blue. His mother's curls of ebony dangled on her shoulders.

Although the photo was faded by the graze of time, the split between his picture-perfect family bled through. The toll alcohol had taken on his brother was evident by his gaze induced with alcohol.

His dark hair was unkempt and eclipsed his brown eyes.

Obscured behind her interlocked fingers, his sister hid her small, baby bump, which had ignited the roaring flames of a shouting argument several moments prior.

Though Riku had tried to reduce her parents' anger directed at Kyoko, he found himself weaved in between his father's murderous glares, pierced with the round of bullets from the countless phone calls his father received from his son's intoxiated state.

Now, due to his own pride and ignorance, a DUI was inked onto Riku's criminal record, severing the college applications he mailed in the previous month.

As his gaze shifted over to the pair of boys lounging out on the plush, white couch pushed up against the wall, basking in the comfort of silence, he noticed the transparency seeping through. Aleesio, though he tried to mask the conflicting emotions with a wide smile and the smell of weed, was a heartbroken shell of the Alpha he usually was. Kenji discerned the colors of gold and brown battling for the upper hand in his irises.

The clashing of crimson-coated swords symbolized the battle demons fought inside of his mind, each of them offering their brutal opinions.

The opinions that pierced through Alessio's bronze skin and burdened him every time he glanced at the mural painted to perfection he saw as Messiah.

With his heart on his sleeve and his golden eyes that refused to waver, he was stitched into an alluring velvet.

Jamarion holds a blunt between his tattooed fingers, as he's embraced in a ring of silver, and a look of distance is written on his face. Kenji has known the Iota, whose crescent-shaped scar painted in white imprinted a blemish onto his caramel skin, ever since he was thirteen, when he encountered him during his first shift. Back then, Jamarion was almost a foot shorter than Kenji because he hadn't reached puberty yet. He communicated in a series of timid, mumbled phrases.

Kenji stood up for him when Aziel and Andrew King, who Kenji called an ass rather than his name, made fun of the honey-colored wolf. He'd growl at the pair of idiots and because he shifted before them, they cowered in fear.