His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"The thing about embracing your own chaos is that it never becomes clear when you need to stop." - Trista Mateer
•
Sitting on the same bench as his Gamma, Valen's skin is clean and carries only his scent. The blood of that insufferable male was washed off of him after he began to feel nauseous from the flesh inside his stomach. When he was in his primal form, his body could handle ingesting the flesh of another, and the taste even resembled some of the succulent meats he'd had before. But when he shifted back to his non-primal form, the taste grew unpleasant and he had to find a bathroom to retch out the contents of his stomach to ease the nausea. He remembers the sweat on his skin whilst the male's remains dribbled down his chin, heavy breaths sounding inside the small bathroom.
If he finds himself eating another wolf in the future, he'll have to stay in his primal form until the flesh is properly digested. Otherwise, he'd retch it up every time, which would defeat the purpose of consuming them in the first place.
Now he wears his titular uniform, clothes taken from his locker in the Generals' locker room. The shower room was across the hall, empty whilst he washed himself. His movements were harsh whilst he scrubbed his skin raw, anger visible in his gaze whilst he removed any evidence of the male's existence from his flesh. Having scents on his skin is revolting, and it only acts to remind him of his time underneath Evropí where his body was grabbed and slashed by hands that had no right to touch him.
The only scent he wants on his skin is Alia's.
Christian grumbles to his right, white knuckles grabbing the tablet. Each tap on the screen is more forceful than the last, and it makes Valen look away from the items in his hands with a blank expression. "You seem displeased," he says.
"Oh?" Christian questions sharply. "What makes you say that?"
Valen pockets the items in his hands, taking care of the sharp needle he uses for carving. He stares at the emptying main floor, wolves switching to prepare for the next round. Crossing his arms, he says, "I won't apologise for killing him."
"You ate him."
"Wolves eat people."
Christian inhales deeply, hand balling into a fist. He licks his teeth and says, "You wish to tell me that you pulled out a knife and fork and ate Vik?" He nods at Valen's non-primal form. "With that body?"
Valen sighs, now understanding the source of the male's displeasure. "No."
Christian gives him a fleeting, scornful smile and then turns back to his tablet, leg bouncing whilst his anger refuses to settle. The bench shakes with every bounce, and Valen rolls his eyes. "I—"
