The Hunter and His Dragon

The Sting of Betrayal

*****Alec's POV*****

The second it settled around his neck —sliding down to land nestled above his collarbone— the world faded to black. Light died without a single chance to fight. Alec struggled to breathe as the heat which resided in most all living things seemed to die out in him. Left with only a bitter cold, it was all he could do to keep standing. A word, no, name spilled out of his mouth as a strangled gasp.

"Magnus!"

But no sound left him, air taken from him just as the light was. He wheezed as a strange laughter pierced his ears. A brief flicker of someone appeared. The gaze of this being that had once been kind and awe inspiring sent chills up his spine. Feeling evaded him as this figure pressed close in what remained of his vision. A quiet whisper carried to his ears. In that moment, it felt as though he was having it proven first hand the last thing you retained before you died was your hearing.

"Sleep foolish prince. I'll take it from here."

Then his consciousness was gone entirely; Alec knew no more of the dragon, no, person before him.

*****Magnus's POV*****

There were some things in life that were impossible to prepare for.

And as Magnus watched the light fade out from those lovely blue eyes he had grown to treasure, he realized this was one of those things. Horror pulsed in his veins with a cold intensity as Alec let out a strangled noise of pain. Mouth flapping open, blue eyes landed on him momentarily as the prince mouthed out a silent word. Magnus knew it to be his name, had memorized what Alec looked like when saying it.

"Alexander!" He shouted back, his voice actually having volume to it.

But Alec could not hear him. The dragon staggered in place as his body swayed. A silent cry left Alec as he hunkered down. Folding in on himself, the dragon came off as smaller in that moment. Dark light poured from the collar. It was in a sick resonance with the rapid glow of the many v-line marks down Alec's throat reaching to his chest. Magnus was frozen in place as he watched the events happening. The only person moving at this point was Asmodeus. He hardly registered his Father's laughter, nor did he recognize how the king came to stand beside him. It was not until a hand landed on his shoulder that Magnus flinched forward.

A heavy breathing filled the air. Alec's heavy breathing came off a strained wheezing. The dragon's tail moved like a slippery vine amidst the clean cut grass. Small bits of gravel popped up from the ground as scales caught on it.

"Marvelous, just marvelous!" Asmodeus cried in jubilation.

Magnus whirled on his Father, the effort made difficult by how hard it was to detract his attention from Alec. "Father . . . what's going on?" The question hardly surmised all the racing thoughts in his head, but it was all his mouth came up with.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed him tighter, fingernails jabbing at the fabric of his shirt. Belatedly, Magnus realized the smell of said clothes was less than optimal. There was no time for cleaning with all the events going on. Spare changes of clothes were in equally bad condition. The muddy smell hardly bothered him at this point. Being a Hunter, dirt and muck was part of the job description.

"Heh. I must applaud you, my son. I'll admit I had my doubts, but it turns out I had nothing to worry about after all." The grip on his shoulder tightened.

Magnus shoved him off, his breath quickening with a shuddering gasp. "What is going on!?" There was an urge to rush over to Alec and get to him —to help in some way— but there was another instinct flaring. It told him the action would do no good. So he forced down the need like the bitter medicine it was.