Lilith continued to run south, her mind racing and fuzzy at the same time. What was happening? Why was it happening? What could she do? Should she leave and save herself? What about Alar? What about their pups?? She couldn’t raise them alone, she didn’t know how. She didn’t want to be stuck alone. She needed him. “ALAR!” She screamed as she sprinted in swerving and turning directions, “ALAR!!” she couldn’t pick up his scent and she didn’t know what to do.
“ALAR!!” She called out, each time more desperately. She didn’t care who heard her or what they thought. All she could focus on was running, and all she wanted was to find her mate. “ALAARR! ALAARR!” She barreled through the trees and clearings until finally she saw the only hopeful sight she had in ages; a flock of ravens flying overhead. She skidded to a stop and looked at what direction they were going, her heart pounding so fast she could feel it in her throat.
“ALAR! WHERE ARE YOU??” She called, and began running again, this time towards the birds. Finally, suddenly, she burst through more trees and bushes, and was face to face with Alar. And she couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t scream, and she didn’t know what to do. She broke down, her body collapsing after such an adrenaline induced panic, and she became a crying heap on the leafy floor, ”Everything is ruined!” She shrieked out through heaving tears, her voice hoarse and shrill all at once. She didn’t even notice anything else around her. Only Alar.
Alar leaped over the fallen debris of the forest, paws hammering the ground, kicking up fleeting clouds of dust in its wake. Nearly half a dozen ravens littered the sky above. Croaking and cawing, his ears swivelled to decode their sounds, leading him closer and closer towards the site of the battle. His body slinked through the trees with precocious steps, head low. It wasn’t too far now. For a moment he turned to the two Vektreni following in pursuit when he picked up the scent of another wolf. It didn’t take long for him to determine who it was. Lilith. His paws shifted course, nose leading him. Then he heard the screams, her screams and his heart thrashed in his chest. “Lilith,” he spoke her name harshly on his tongue, “Lilith!”
Then, as if out of nowhere, the reddish she-wolf’s trembling form appeared in front of him and Alar skidded to an abrupt halt. Her damp eyes spoke of horror, and for a moment the he-wolf had wondered if all had been lost. What of the fate of their Vale? Had the rebels won? She was a mess, bordering on a wild appearance. Instinctively Alar drew into her, catching her, rasping his tongue along the base of her nape. He could feel her fear, “shhh- you’re fine. Everything is fine,” he lied, breathing in the familiar scent. The truth was he was entirely unsure if everything was fine. For a brief, rare moment he let her consume him before his concerns shifted over to other matters entirely.
“You two go on ahead,” Alar’s fiery gaze drifted over to the Red She-Devil and her dog standing before him, his body still nestled against the warmth of his mate’s trembling body. “I need to tend to my mate.”
Proudly alongside his Alphess, Klaus followed the Valerian King in pursuit, paws thundering beneath him. There was a gleam in his eye, lightness in his chest. Hekate had chosen him for this mission. Him! Out of all of the other more experienced Vektreni, she had specifically chosen him for this job. Obviously it was some sort of test, a perfect opportunity to prove to her that he was worth keeping around, that he had value, and not because of blood or birthright, no. It was because of the value he afforded the pack through the works of his paws; nothing more, nothing less. He was sure of it.
Finally they came to a halt only to stare in silence as a smaller she-wolf emerged from the bushes. Klaus’ ears swiveled forward as he paused to examine her ridged form. He could see the tremors rippling across her pelt, the swelling, red bulging eyes. Her desperate, hoarse cries filled the air, forced an aching feeling in the young Prince’s throat. The lightness in his chest was gone, replaced with a heaviness too difficult to describe. It didn’t take long for him to understand that this was their Queen.
A low growl nearly rippled from deep within his chest. How could a pack treat their own Alphess this way? Those barbarians! Klaus’ nostrils flared. How dare they betray and leave their Queen like this? The longer he mulled it over the more he could feel his muscles quivering, toes flexing under his weight. Monarchy was something to be respected, to be cherished and those who defy it are nothing more than heathens. Scum of the earth. Klaus’ eyes narrowed as Lilith’s whimpers continued to fill the air. If this were his own Queen mother he’d rip whoever did this to shreds. But alas she was not. She was alone with no one but her mate to calm her, chased away like some lowly cow with wolves snapping at her heels. It enraged him. If no one was going to protect her, to avenge her, then at least he would. Someone had to. Those savage rebels would pay. Drawing in several slow steady breaths, Klaus awaited for the “OK” from his mistress.
As much the red She-Devil wanted to entertain the idea of bringing an army back to Vale, in order to feed her warriors with their often needed lust for blood, the Mistress had not been convinced of Alar’s true clutch on a Vale in decay. Renier was a wolf fitting for Kingship, someone that nobody would dare confront before being completely sure of their power. This wolf, however… He had the wits, that was of no doubt, but to rule a pack one needed more than a great intellect.
Hekate’s scorching glaze rose up to the sky where a bunch of black birds followed them, croaking things she could not understand. An odd feeling rattled inside her chest - divine warning - as the red lady kept a steady and gracious pace after Alar. She suppressed a growl. As soon she stepped back into her lands, she’d demand every and each Shade to be careful towards these birds.
Halting at the sight of a bronze-coloured female, and she quickly tossed herself at ground and was quickly aided by the Valerian regent. “Everything is ruined!”. Hekate sneered inside, somewhat pleased with the fulfillment of her expectations - but at the same time, that meant they’d have a messy job to do. What came next, however, caught the bloodred wolf by surprise. And she wasn’t exactly subtle on the way her amber eyes burnt the King alive, displeased.
She eyed Klaus, her chosen one for this job. The boy was eager to find his place, to show his worth, and this was fitting. Yet, Hekate was unsure about actually wanting to risk a warrior to this increasing mayhem. “Go.” She ordered, before briefly turning to King and Queen, voice sharp as a blade. “We are not your usual mercenaries, Alar. Think carefully on your next decisions.” The Mistress added, before darting after her comrade. Alar had this only, delicate chance of proving himself a worthy ally to her, and despite the doubts, she still hoped he’d impress her at the end.
Alar met Hekate’s words with silence, but when the Red She-Devil sped off after her companion the King Regent sneered. Those eyes. He detested those eyes, having seen them for most of his life. There was never any admiration or pride in them, just disdain and mockery; a complete disrespect and disregard for his existence. Alar gritted his teeth, suppressing a snarl. He’d show them. He’d make them all sorry! One day the mere mention of his name would command fear and reverence, just as it once did in the south. This he promised.
As another one of Lilith’s tremors rippled through his body, Alar gripped her tighter. That’s right, at least he had her. So long as he retained his rule over this pack she would remain. For now his mate and Shenandoah were the only two who truly appreciated him… and soon enough the rest of the pack would join them.
“Let’s watch, shall we?” The he-wolf grinned, drawing back from her a few steps. With Vektren’s arrival there would be no doubt of their victory, and he wanted her to be there with him when it happened. After this, no one would ever dare challenge their reign again. Tenderly he brushed his flank against hers, “come now,” he spoke gently before the two withdrew into the thicket beyond, eager to watch the battle unfold.
Dark paws hammered the earth as the young prince raged towards the battle at full tilt. His ears swivelled, deciphering the sounds of the approaching snaps and snarls that became louder with every stride. Finally the clashing came into view and immediately his eyes went to work in search of a target. Remembering Alar’s description about the rebels on their journey here, the young Prince was quick to pick up on which side was which.
Like a storm he’d strike, quick as lightning. Those heathen rebels wouldn’t even know what hit them. Longing to impress his mistress, the young wolf combed the slew of wolves for a worthy opponent as he continued his advance. They’d have to be big, but not too big his momentum would be rendered futile. Soon his eyes settled upon the back of a pale, sandy-brown pelted rebel in the heat of his own battle. There.
His direct approach into the clearing left him exposed, but with everyone preoccupied with their own battles it caused him little concern. As he neared with frenzied paws, the world around the enforcer blurred out of view until it was just him and his chosen opponent.
Klaus lunged from behind, swiftly wrapping his jaws around the he-wolf’s nape, using the force he had obtained from his charge to drive the male to the ground, intercepting the match between Notah and Tollek.
Crack
The rebel hit the ground hard with Klaus nearly losing his footing as he pressed his paws deeply into the he-wolf’s shoulder. Breathing heavily, his jaws remained tightly fastened to Notah’s neck, expecting resistance, but his opponent did not move. Was this some sort of trick? Tightening his grip, Klaus released a rippling snarl as he thrashed, hoping it would incite a reaction from his foe. Still nothing. The sandy wolf lied limp, and the Vektreni drew back. Was he.. dead?
He didn’t expect an attack from anywhere but where the pale wolf was standing and couldn’t help a yelp of shock and pain as fangs latched into the back of his neck. Time seemed to slow for Notah as he kicked out violently with his paws trying to connect with something, anything, that could slow the inevitable. His single amber eye sought out the last wolf he had sworn to protect and care for, her pale coat a ghost amongst the battling frenzy around them.
There was so much left unsaid.
His life seemed to flash before his eyes but all the memories were filled with sadness. The death of his mother and sisters… the murder of the cougar cubs… Jane, Faust, Brun, his children… Who had he touched and not lost? Who had he promised to protect and not failed? His mind could not imagine one in the sea of faces that rushed past his eye as he sought Nyru out.
There was so much left unsaid.
He felt the impact and almost immediately went limp but his head throbbed madly for a moment as a white light started to take up his view and a ringing sang in his ears. I’m sorry Nyru...I failed you too… And as the world went black for the last time he took the words he had held in his heart so long unspoken for a wolf who was always outside his reach with him.
...And will always remain unsaid.
It seemed like he had danced around the male for so long, sharp teeth darting in and out, now familiar with the taste of the large Beta’s blood and the fury in his one good eye - but even broken, bloodied, the wolf would not go down. Tollek was quick and agile but he was not made of muscle, not in the way this wolf was, and had Notah been fast enough to catch his younger opponent just one more time it surely would have been the end of the white male. The Beta could not get another grasp on his attacker and yet he would not give up. Tollek might have felt a flicker of admiration for him then, recognising that he had a determination in his heart that Tollek himself sought in his own subjects - but it faded away in his chest. He held no love for any other wolf, no matter their stamina or strength. Pale yellow eyes narrowed, his shoulders heaving as his breath became heavier with the effort of battle. He had to get the Beta to his knees. Somehow.
As he began to circle once more, he saw a movement; over Notah’s shoulder, more wolves poured into the glade. In only the time it took for him to force another heavy exhale, there was a dark pelted assassin heading towards them with a fierce look upon on face. Instinctively Tollek’s body tensed, unsure as to whom this wolf planned to attack, but as he watched, the stranger made for Notah’s throat.
A frustrated snarl erupted from Tollek’s chest - in slow motion he saw jaws close around the target he had worked to wear down, and his paws left the ground as he leapt in, to overpower the once proud Valerian Beta. He did not need help, did not want it, and he would not stand idly by while another took the final bloody credit for all the work he had done. The kill should have been his. There was a frightening moment as his eyes gleamed and he longed for that finality, the power to choose who lived or died.
He had barely made contact with the wolf, as Notah toppled, his legs kicking wildly for a grip or a rescue. A powerful hind leg tore into Tollek’s stomach, sending the young wolf flying backwards away from the final moments. Tollek could not fathom what was happening as he reeled. He felt the air rushing through his fur, could see his target slipping away, and yet it wasn’t Notah that was moving, he was... and then - crack - his spine met the trunk of a nearby tree. A haunting yelp escaped his jaw upon impact. The young wolf crumpled to the ground, his face contorted and his teeth gritted with pain. Head drooped amongst the roots, Tollek watched the dark intruder extinguish the Beta’s life through blurred eyes.
Everything was a blur. For a brief moment, Nyru had seen the Black Watch member Hidde charge her. But just as soon as she had seen him, he was gone; replaced by Quinn's pelt colors as the invader was intercepted. There was no time for gratitude -- she charged onward.
Nyru's entire purpose had been to lead the Rebels into battle; to give them a leader that was willing to fight for what was rightfully theirs. She knew as well as the ones who followed her that she needed to stay out of harm's way, as to engage in an actual fight with a wolf that was infinitely more skilled in the art of war would almost guarantee her death. So instead, she acted as a distraction and engaged in "passive" attacks and defensive maneuvers. When her eye caught sight of one of her comrades being overwhelmed, she rushed their attacker and nipped at their tails and hindquarters. It was enough to surprise them and make them turn their heads -- thus offering her fellow Rebel a chance to gain the upper paw.
She continued with these tactics as the battle raged on. Her eyes searched for the next Rebel who appeared to be overwhelmed, and with horror, she caught sight of Notah. A dark wolf she'd not seen or smelled before had entered the fight. He was not a wolf of the Black Watch. Where did he come from? Fear choked her when she realized that there was another wolf here as well -- a red-coated female engaging with Rhaegan. Are these reinforcements? Just as she had decided to distract the darker wolf attacking Notah, she watched her fellow Beta hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Nyru's eyes grew wide as the world seemed to slow all around her. She watched with horror as the foreign wolf tried to further harm Notah by wringing his neck, but her friend did not move. His body lay limp. No, I was too late!
She could feel her paws burning as the nerves fought against the shock and numbness that tried to overtake her entire body. Exhaustion and starvation were masked by a new kind of adrenaline she had never felt before. It fueled her as her feet carried her directly towards Notah's attacker. She leapt at just the last moment, her paws outstretched and claws ready to feel fur and flesh beneath them. And for the first time, her lips were peeled back and teeth hungry for the blood of the one who now stood above Notah's fallen form.
With his back to her, Nyru landed her attack almost perfectly -- teeth and claws found her enemy's back and head. The cost of war had meant she had little weight to throw around, but she was blind to her weaknesses and wanted only one thing -- to save Notah, or worse -- avenge him.
He’s dead?
Klaus was beside himself in disbelief when the realization washed over him like a stream of cold water. The Vektreni’s stomach churned as he peered down at Notah’s motionless corpse, and for the first time in his life he felt nauseous. It was as if time had slowed down, and the thrill about impressing his Mistress along with the anger he had felt towards the rebel heathens just moments ago all but faded like a passing breath.
A harsh, half-stifled yell left his lips as a pair of sharp fangs pierced the back of his neck, igniting a spark that fed a raging fire deep within. Absorbing the trauma, Klaus swallowed the pain and reached for the pale pelt responsible with bared teeth. Gripping Nyru’s shoulder, a rippling snarl erupted from his throat as he peeled her off, thrashing her around before throwing the she-wolf to the dirt. His anger restored.
Thud.
Her attempt had been in vain, if not stupid. Just as he had done with Notah, the shadowy wolf dug his paws deep into her shoulder, pressing Nyru down as he peered into her eyes. What he saw was courage and hatred, eyes desperate to avenge her fallen comrade. “Don’t be a fool,” he warned with peeled lips, flashing his fangs to her as he snapped at her face, jaws eventually locking over her muzzle in restraint until the iron-like tang of blood met his tongue.
Despite the rush of adrenaline that was fueling the ashen-red wolf’s ability to keep fighting, even Roan knew that there would be a point where he would have to retreat and tend to his wounds or else face a good chance that he could fail in this battle with the Sentinel. Loki’s determination was a strong force to be reckoned with and Roan himself was beginning to realize he needed to find something else, something to distract the rebel and draw his ire away from the assassin so he could slink off and lick his wounds for a moment. But what?
Before Roan could come to a plan in his mind, Loki surged forward almost catching the ashen-red wolf off guard. Jaws snapped at his hind leg and Roan let out a roar of rage and pain as he writhed around to face the smaller wolf connected to his hind leg. Kicking violently, Roan twisted and turned, feeling tendon and muscle rip and tear as he attempted to get free. “You sorry son of a-” Roan spat at the Sentinel as his reddish-orange eyes blazed with fury. “I swear I will ream you for actually hurting me,” he hissed before commotion elsewhere caught his ears and eyes. Perfect.
With a final wrench he pulled his leg free, blood spilling onto the ground. “Look’s like your precious Beta has fallen,” he sneered as he flicked his ears in the direction of where Notah had crumpled under the arrival of a mysterious black wolf. “And reinforcements for us too!” he laughed wickedly before fleeing from his adversary.
He had a job to do.
Satisfaction rippled through his chest, teeth piercing the skin and blood rushing into his mouth. The anger in Roan's voice only exhilarated the Sentinel, confident now that he had broken through Roan's original cockiness. I told you I wasn't going down easy. The red brute jerked his legs from Loki's jaws, sending a fountain of blood spraying onto the grass, and leaving the black Valearian panting, but ready. The Assassin's blood eyes focused on Loki's face, blazing with rage, causing a sinister grin to creep up the sentinel's muzzle. But before any attack could proceed, a red shape caught his attention.
Jerking his copper laced muzzle upwards, Loki's acid eyes widened in horror. Hekate?
The name seared his brain like a branding iron, and the scar on his stomach twisted in protest as memories flooded back. What was the Vektren leader doing here? Had Alar sent for them?
A dark hatred laced his throat. Of course Alar had sent for them. He knew that the Valearians were too strong for the black watch to defeat solely, so he had called for help, a mirror image of his predecessor. A coward. But Roan's voice took his attention from the Alphess, and instead onto her minion, who had Notah pinned by the neck. Loki's ears flattened, eyes focusing on the sight, but muscles strung tensely, prepared for any form of counterattack. A dark grey male, lithe in form loomed over the one-eyed male, but something wasn't right. "Notah!" He howled instinctively, fanged muzzle curled in anguish. His Beta wasn't moving, and although Roan's taunt hung in the air, they wouldn't sink in.
Their Beta couldn't be dead. There was still so much for them to do! He couldn't be....
Loki watched as Roan hared away, his hind leg held up in favor, blood spilling from the wounds. With narrowed eyes and a permanent snarl, Loki pivoted on his hind legs, black pelt rippling and bounded for the edge of the clearing, a desperation building in his chest as he searched for his fellows. His eyes darted frantically, picking up on familiar pelts...Kyros, Quinn, Kimber....Finarel....but he couldn't see her; he couldn't see Nyru! They had already lost one, they couldn't lose another...."Nyru!"
Though Hekate's approach to the battlefield was quick, the red lady was pleased to see she had passed unnoticed. She was not a warrior but an assassin, bound to the shadows and the arts of subtlety - an opportunist. As she neared the snarling wolves clashing around, the She-Devil let her mind be empty of everything else but the battle ahead. As cunning Hekate might be, wits would be of no use if she wasn't able to focus.
Lurking and preparing to lunge, she made her way around towards the combat, advancing sideways and perching herself like a demonic gargoyle in the nearest rock. She snarled. Alar and his Black Watch were clearly outnumbered, all sorts of rebels eager to take their lands back - there were, amidst the trained warriors, wolves certainly not fit for fighting - but obviously, given enough audacity and encouragement, any fool would be pleased to thrown themselves against their oppressors.
Aware of her exposure but quick to scan around, the she-wolf merely awaited for the perfect opportunity to strike a distracted enemy. Maybe she'd dispose of these small untrained rats first so the fighters could focus on the real threat. Licking her lips eagerly for blood, she jumped off, eyes fixed on her next target.
He returned to the field, pausing to gauge the various skirmishes. Ella. Where was Ella? Alarm spread through him when she did not immediately appear. She’d only been out of a sight for a moment but what if-
No. Rhaegan spotted her across the clearing and instantly felt his fear triple. Hekate. How long had the Red Witch been here? Was she alone? A violent growl ripped out of Rhae as the Vektreni seemed to be making a direct line for Finarel. No!
Charging like a mad bull, the rogue was blind to all but the Viperess as he tore after her. She was fresh to the battle, trained in the art of death. He was weak, wounded - and angry. But if Hekate thought she could make easy prey out of Ella, she was sorely mistaken. Rhaegan had nothing else to lose.
He lunged, jaws wide.
If it was the vektreni Gods or just her keen senses of battle that warned her of the incoming danger, Hekate didn’t really have time to consider, but fact is that a precious split second was enough to safeguard the bloodred Mistress from getting caught by a serrated maw. She had the required agility to dodge the incoming charge and avoid a full blow, but the closeness and power of Rhaegan’s strike left her incapable of leaving it completely unscathed.
Hekate snarled as teeth reached for her body before the assassin was able to pull away fully from its grasp, razor-sharp fangs ripping fur and skin on the way. She hissed as the smell of her own blood arrived to her nostrils like sweet poison, a reminder of her own mortality, a burning sensation where skin was tore off.
There was a taunt ready at the tip of her tongue, but the She-Devil knew that this was not time to tease. Rhaegan was clearly still far from being on his prime, but was still an opponent not to be toyed with. Deciding that offense would be the best defense in this occasion, she striked back at full agility, quickly reaching for the brute’s back leg, aiming at the sensitive spot on Rhaegan’s ankle with sharpened teeth.
His red eyes met her golden ones, only for a moment. His hatred burned stark as his gaze tracked her movements. The Witch retaliated, predictable but no less problematic. Rhaegan spun to meet her fang for fang, too slow, but enough to prevent a crippling blow to his leg. Hekate’s snakelike strike cut through fur and flesh, and he bellowed as she ripped open his calf.
The Red Devil was faster than him. Stronger. Other rebels were quickly being overwhelmed. The Vektreni were powerful foes, too powerful for a band of half-starved renegades to possibly prevail against. But Rhaegan didn’t need to best her, he only needed to buy enough time for Finarel to escape. He had made a promise to Quinn - and the dark warrior had been right, Rhae owed Ella that much.
Rhaegan could not outpace Hekate. But if he could corner her… perhaps even pin her, the advantage would be his.
Disfavouring his hind leg, Rhaegan turned to guard it from his opponent, limping noticeably and licking his bloodied maw. Though it stung, the pain was bearable. But Hekate did not have any reason to know that. She was practical as death, surely she would see the weakness, and attempt to exploit it.
He hoped.
The Viperess was clever. But if his feint was successful, she would believe him incapable of reacting, and close the distance between them.
The strike was precise and pointed teeth cut through fur and skin, giving the Mistress a small taste of Rhaegan’s blood. She considered retreating back to a safe distance, away from powerful jaws, but as the brute quickly attempted to protect his newly acquired injury from further damage, turning the leg away from Hekate’s reach.
It was too much for her to resist. Another opportunity to incapacitate the warrior could not come and she’d lose the opportunity to claim him for herself. The crimson assassin was easy to recognize the foolishness of being turned away, but Rhaegan’s resolve… bothered her. He was meant to greatness, and it was worth fighting his blind honour in order to lead him to a better purpose - to become a Vektreni.
Extending her body to the fullest, oblivious of his plans, Hekate dared to expose her whole back and side to the rebel as she tried to reach for the wounded leg again. Just another painful, quick and effective strike would tear down his defences and give the Mistress the opening she needed.
Shenandoah was blind to any emotions Kyros might have worn on his face, or any actions he took that might indicate against what she had already accepted to be true; he was evil, and he was here with the rebels to kill them all.
She felt him stagger with the impact, letting out a grunt as he tried to defy her, and then they fell together. That only gave Shen a surge of confidence. Her teeth meet his fur and she felt a thrilling sensation course through her as her fang pricked his flesh, warm and pulsing with muscles and blood. But it wasn’t a good sensation, it was a sickening one, so sickening that it shook her resolve and she consciously had to keep from recoiling. He is a rebel, his filthy blood means nothing. His filthy life means nothing! Shenandoah asserted to herself, snarling as she bit down again, trying to break the skin that was well protected by a thick brown coat.
But before she could even draw blood, the larger wolf reacted, rolling over to throw her off. She slid through the grass and then struggled back to her paws, spitting fury. I mustn’t hold back next time I get the chance, she thought desperately to herself, I must act… or else… or else…
He snarled his challenge and Shen felt her rage boil within her again, unbearable and out of her control, and then with the anger-driven adrenaline she surged forward. Kyros proved to be evasive, dodging her passionate attacks time and time again. After each failed attack her frustration mounted, her desperation grew, she was panting for breath and nearly in a frenzy as she sprang one last time with everything she had, roaring in fury, her long-fanged jaws wide and aiming to clamp around his throat.
Kyros knitted his brow as he dodged a harsh snapping of fangs near his side. With every renewed lunge Shenandoah got closer and closer to drawing blood. A graze here and a bite there; it was only a matter of time before she landed a blow. Would he even be able to tire her out? Her blood frenzy only seemed to grow as their battle continued.
Gritting his teeth, Kyros watched as Shenandoah paused, breathing harshly, frustration present on her face. He opened his mouth to call out to her when he caught the sight of a silver and dark pelt moving on the battlefield. A hurling blow knocked the female down and the vicious looking male advanced in on an injured...Nyru? Kyros’s heart froze as he recognized Nyru among the throng of wolves and an overwhelming rage washed over him.
Shenandoah’s howl of outrage and lunge towards him wasn’t enough to quell the Sentinel’s rage and bring his attention back to their fight. He needed to get out of here! He had to get to Nyru! Heated, Kyros charged forward meeting her lunge head on before slamming harshly into the side of the young female. He heard the harsh thwack, an apology in the back of his mind, but kept on moving; the rage thrumming in his ears.
Shenandoah had not expected Kyros to leap forward like that, he slammed into her before she could even grab his fur in her jaws. She let out a yelping snarl, the force of his body easily sending her sprawling in the grass. She stayed down for a moment. She was already utterly exhausted, and it was just catching up to her now. “N-no… I can’t…let him go… ” the dark faced she-wolf’s green eyes scanned the clearing rapidly for Kyros. She could see her wolves were fighting, they were fighting fiercely. She had to get up, she had to fight too! But Kyros, where was…. Another sight caught her attention. It was Kimber! But… fighting Bellamy? “W-What…?” Kyros was forgotten as she stared dazed at the battle between her two most trusted companions. One of them was traitor too? No… not her good fish… not her closest guardian… her breathing grew shallow, her lungs unable to work properly, grief welling in her chest and choking her throat. She closed her eyes at is overwhelmed her. ’Why is Loki free? What have you done?’ the gray wolf was snarling. Kimber… it was Kimber… She couldn’t do this anymore. What… was the point? Why did she keep fighting? There was no one...
She felt numb, alone, and confused when two dark forms cast a shadow over her eyes and Shen looked up to see a very familiar dark pelt battling a red Vektreni she-wolf. Rhaegan! He had been the first. The FIRST wolf to betray her family! Using this logic, her inner turmoil allowed her to lock onto him as the source. As the one who needed to die. The one who started it all. She had hoped to never see her treacherous uncle again, but at this point she was thrilled that he had appeared before her, and even with his back turned. Now he would pay… for everything. She heaved herself to her paws, choking out a sob, tears of grief and confusion stuck in her eyes. Now was her chance. She prowled toward him for the kill.
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Ella had started to doubt if she was indeed prepared for that battle.
As rebels and monarchs clashed around her, the auburn she-wolf found it hard to concentrate on what had to be done. Her heart raced so loudly, barely allowing her to listen to anything but her own pulse. Her eyes would focus on everyone, and on no one at the same time. She wanted to watch over them, all of them, to help. But she couldn't be careless, she couldn't mess up, she couldn't get killed. She wouldn't become a hassle to her packmates... So what was she doing there?
To run around aimlessly wasn't an option. The Porter had to make herself useful.
Finarel stopped briefly, taking the time to look around. If she could get a grip of herself and properly analyze the situation, she could figure out where she could be useful. Remember everything you learned, fool, just do it as Quinn said! She wasn't strong enough to take any of the BlackWatch alone, but she could help her friends. But who?
And then Ella saw her. Not someone she wanted, but a red she-wolf moving rapidly through the field, to her direction. Finarel wasn't religious, she had never learned anything about gods and demons, but there was a few stories... if she had only once imagined the devil that those tales told about, that crimson wolf would probably be its reincarnation. The valerian froze, incapable of escaping from such smoldering eyes - although she did close her own. And waited.
Waited.
But whatever it was that she was expecting, it never came. Instead, a familiar, very familiar, scent filled in her lungs and Finarel's eyes flew open. Rhaegan. No! The Rogue had been fast to attack the Red She-Devil, but the Porter knew his condition better than any other rebel. He was powerful, that she would never doubt. But that she-wolf...
Finarel wasn't able to complete her thoughts, for another wolf caught her attention. One that she once knew very well - Shenandoah charged to their direction with killing intent in her eyes, those olive iris focused on... Rhaegan. She was aiming for him! And if he had to fight both, Shenandoah and that crimson wolf...
"NO!" She snapped, coming out of her confusion. There was no way that she would allow Shen to get to Rhaegan. She would kill him! She would kill him in an instant... or she would get killed, though the odds were at her side right now. Finarel knew what she had to do.
She moved forward, positioning her body in front of Rhaegan just in time to take Shenandoah's first blow.
As Shenandoah leaped, expecting to meet her uncle's coarse fur, a much smaller frame sprang from out of nowhere, and it was softer fur that her teeth sank into. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what had happened, the auburn fur she held instantly familiar. Finarel!
Shenandoah scrambled back, her dark gray-green eyes wide with shock as she looked down at the wolf who was once her friend, tasting her blood strongly on her lips, dripping from her teeth. “E-Ella... “ she shook her head, baring her teeth as any remorse was banished. She brought this upon herself. She is treacherous, she would kill you if she had the chance. “You’ll pay for this,” the little Queen sprang forward, feeling the soft fur under her paws, the same fur she had snuggled and nudged when she was a pup during play. Nostalgia will not save you now, she thought bitterly, pulling back her neck as she prepared to plunge her unusually long fangs deep into the rebel scum’s pelt.
Hekate took the bait, a wicked hunger in her gaze that even the fog of war could not blind Rhae to. Rhaegan’s retaliation was swift and merciless, and he struck her forcefully in the chest. Caught mid-lunge, there was no way for Hekate to regain her balance as Rhaegan’s claws slammed into her side, and his teeth closed against her shoulder.
Her blood was honey on his tongue, a long awaited reward against the Viperess who had so long tormented him. His weight sent her sprawling, and Rhae let out a visceral roar, pinning her against the hard ground. He’d won. She lay at his mercy.
Red fangs poised to put an end to the wretched She-Devil, suddenly Ella’s scream was ringing in his ears. Chest clenching, Rhae jerked to attention, horror mounting as he saw Shen standing over Finarel with madness in her eye.
NO!
It was all happening in slow motion. There was no time. Kicking off Hekate hard, Rhae bolted.
Rage coursed through him, dark and bubbling. Threatening to spill over as he slipped and weaved through the myriad of wolves dancing on the battlefield. He no longer saw the others; their fights, their battles, but only the carnage laid out before him. Notah laying motionless on the ground, Nyru bloody and injured; being held down at this dark wolf’s mercy. These outsiders dared to take everything away. His home, his friends, his family….Nyru. He saw red.
A bestial snarl left him as he surged forward, his body colliding harshly into the dark wolf. A sick crunch and thud echoing in his wake. He felt the white, hot pain lance through his shoulder, but it was of little consequence. Kyros parted his fangs, growling low as he moved to create a barrier between Nyru and her attacker. He’d lay waste to these wolves for their audacity.
Kyros’s breaths came out harshly, ragged in his anger as he looked down at the fallen Vektreni. Fiery eyes daring the intruder to make a move while he tended to her safety. When the wolf didn’t budge, Kyros risked a glance back to the pallid beta. His eyes softening as he saw the wretched state she was in. Blood splattered on her snow colored coat, that only grew more crimson from the wound on her muzzle. He barely recognized her underneath all that blood.
“You need to run.” he breathed. His eyes glued to the Vektreni’s form. “Get as far away from here as you can.” With the newly arrived reinforcements who knew how much longer their rebellion would hold.
Kyros’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Notah’s prone form once more. Unsure if his friend was alive or…. Gritting his teeth, Kyros lowered himself defensively. He had been too late for Notah, but he’d make damn sure she escaped! She was worth it, always worth it.
“Run!”
The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth as her teeth clamped on to the Vektreni's neck. No thoughts went through her mind beyond the taste of his blood. She had no plan beyond inflicting as much pain and damage as she could, just as the Dark Ages had done to her and Vale. Her feet and claws dug in where they could as she felt him thrash, his blood coating her silvery white fur as she held on.
Then, she felt it. He'd managed to get ahold of her shoulder when she failed to dodge his snapping jaws. No amount of pain-numbing adrenaline could make her ignore the throb of his teeth in her flesh. She winced and yelped as he ripped her off of him and tossed her to the ground. She spat out his blood and fur and bits of flesh as she attempted to stand and face him for her next assault, but he was already on top of her. His weight was crushing, much like the way Andras had gotten ahold of her a year ago.
Looking up at Klaus, she did not see his face -- all she could see was Andras grinning down at her, torturing her in preparation for watching Faust be murdered again. It all rushed back, just like in her nightmares. "Don't be a fool." His words fell on deaf ears. A fool was all she had been since the beginning -- and it had gotten her this far. Kicking and wriggling, she fought against his weight just as badly as she fought to wake herself up from her nightmares so many times. Her face was stained with blood as her teeth snapped at his legs like a rabid animal. Fear, adrenaline, anger, rage...it all came out in a tidal wave of desperate emotion.
And then it happened. Klaus's jaws caught her face. She felt his teeth rake along the top of her muzzle as he forced her to stop her thrashing. Exhaustion finally worked its way into her body as the pain in her face broke her out of her trance-like bloodlust. She could feel the energy leave her body as she strained to look up at the one who would finally do it -- he would end her miserable life. The thought of such relief brought an eerie sense of calm to her body. Her eyes shifted to see Notah's lifeless form just a few tail lengths away. See you soon, brother. Her eyes closed as she accepted her fate and waited for the final blow; the last sensation of pain and hunger and loss that she would ever feel.
But it was not meant to be.
His teeth left her muzzle almost as quickly as they had found it. Klaus was gone -- knocked away from her and still rolling upon the ground when her eyes settled on Kyros. He stood between her and her death. She was not expecting to live even a second more, so her mind entered a state of shock. When he turned and told her to run, get as far away as possible, it was like he was speaking another language. No, I was supposed to die here! This was my fate and you've ruined it!
Anger and hopelessness replaced the feelings of peace she'd enjoyed only moments before. No, he could not take this from her! He had played a hand in taking her family, and now this. Hatred and fury ignited in her eyes as she fought to stand. She wanted to charge Klaus again, to try and find the relief in his jaws that she had so desperately wanted, but Kyros's shout for her to run snapped her back.
Her eyes met his and the hatred melted away. She could see his concern, his fear, his anger, his pain. It was like looking in a mirror. Trembling with confusion and defeat, she did as he commanded. Without looking back, Nyru turned tail and ran.
Her eyes caught sight of the Rebels being overwhelmed with reinforcements as she weaved between them and out of the clearing. We failed, she thought. I failed them. There was no plan beyond what had happened mere moments ago. She had planned to die in the battle, so what was there to think about beyond it? Now the weight of her failure threatened to overpower her remaining strength. She left the battlefield without a thought in her mind. All she could hear was Kyros's voice.
Run.
