Obsidian Night Pack

74

It was like a clash of hungry wolves, starving for the death of their opponent. They were ripped out of their human flesh and dawns with pelts of wolves. In a matter of seconds, the tall grass was splattered with blood. The smell hitting me like a bomb, Alaric blood...

It didn't even look like a fair fight. I guess maybe Alaric was just used to a structured and honorable fight that he couldn't keep up with Vincent. It was completely wild, it was as if a mad man was trying to calculate his opponent's next moves while being utterly unpredictable himself. Vincent's moves held no strategy to them which seemed to throw Alaric for a loop. He struggled to attack and even when he did manage to get in close enough it was like Vincent baited him and had sacrificed a piece of himself just to get an inch closer to Alaric's neck.

Alaric's wolf was larger, but it seemed as though Vincent had more speed on his side. Alaric jumped up to try to pin him down, but without a second thought, Vincent jumped as well putting his front leg in Alaric's line of sight. The moment Alaric's teeth clamped down on Vincent's front leg, his back leg kicked up, mid-air and dug into Alaric's abdomen. Blood flashed and dripped as the fight edged on through the night.

Alaric was getting worn out even though the fight hadn't been going on for too long. It was due to the amount of blood loss on his part.

"Alaric..." it took all my strength just to stand here and watch! It hurt so much watching him be beaten down like this. The only hits Vincent was taking were the ones he wanted or had planned to. It was ridiculously fast-paced.

Until one moment.

One single moment where Vincent's fighting style changed to something structured. This whole time Alaric had been trying to keep up with a crazy fast-paced, unpredictable wolf. He had been trying to adapt to his speed and sense of what he targeted. And now to suddenly switch to a higher level of fighting style was like a bucket of cold water dumped on Alaric. 

It surprised him.

It's what Vincent did best though.

Manipulation.

That one second was all it took for his jaw, his teeth to sink into Alaric's neck.

I had heard bones crack before, but this one I actually felt. 

Physically.

Mentally.

Scorchingly in my soul as a bond of two wolves ripped in half.

Laughing.

"How does it feel? To lose everything? Just as his father before him took everything from me I took everything from him. I destroyed his mind! His pack! And his mate! All gone! Even his life! Sleeping away to the ground below."

I clenched my fists into the dirt beneath me. I let the tears fall from my eyes. Because what else could I do. I had this urge this need to do something, anything. To help him.

And yet I'm powerless. Once again. Having a wolf doesn't mean you win in a fight. Being strong isn't an automatic victory. Being clever doesn't make you any better than the foe before you.

It's when you have nothing at all and yet at the same time a single goal. A goal to do something. To make a difference. Change the course of fate, because the one I'm on now is wrong.

Life isn't supposed to continue without him. Not for me. This pack isn't meant to be let by anyone other than him by my side. I felt it. Like a burning rage, they stung my lungs.

Of all those days of him calling me broken and useless. I now understand. I knew now that he was wrong. I was never broken. I was simply stained.

"Look at you shaking, can't handle the loss of a mate? That's alright princess because I'm here to replace him."