Face-Off

Metas pulled his way through the cracked door, with the aid of Jyriah and Ajax pushing him. It was a tight fit - but his determination made it possible.

The image that first blared into his eyes enraged him further than he thought he could ever be pushed. There was that old fuck, gripping his wife's beautiful hip, and inserting his fingers where they didn't belong.

Lobos made sure to leave a lasting impression for his foe, and before the large black wolf could remove him with a tackle from the leap he came from, the old male slashed Myranda's flesh in hopes it would scar.

That way, every time the King laid with his wife, he'd be reminded of his failure.

Metas didn't see it that way, though. He saw it as a memory of never to trust anyone's word again - and to be more ruthless. It was a memory to remind him to keep his loved ones close, but his enemies closer....and it was a memory to know that the old male couldn't get it up, which is why he had resorted to using his wrinkly old fingers - and why his limp, shriveled, tiny little shrimp-dick was hanging out uselessly.

He was disgusted at Lobos, and didn't want the old coot to go without the proper repayment for his services. As much as the King didn't want to admit it -- Lara's father had taught him a valuable lesson.

Now it was his turn to teach.

After he nailed into the side of Lobos, there was a brief tussle on the floor where the two of them rolled in a mix of fur and flesh. Once he was on top of the tiny old male, his large paws pinned his arms down, and his hind legs merely 'sat' on his lower extremities, making it impossible for the bastard below him to move. Metas grinned sadistically - something he had never done before (but now he understood why one would). He made a point to open his maw as slowly as possible to extend the fear that was Lobos' expression.

He was going to savor the crunch of his bones, and the 'pop' of his frontal lobe as the giant King leaned down and crushed Lobos' face between his jaw, and then pulled back to remove his skin and the delicate muscles underneath. The sinews snapped delightfully, and the audible rip of flesh was like music to Metas' ears. It sounded like thick fabric being ripped apart, but wet and with snaps of air that escaped from the fibrous tissue.

Jyriah paid no mind to whatever it was Metas was doing - he was more concerned about his sister. He immediately scooped up Myranda's stiff state and took her away from the screaming and blood spatter Metas was currently causing.

"Hey kiddo, I've got you." Jyriah coaxed gently. Once he was able to get her on her feet, he removed the black, weathered leash and collar from her - and took his own shirt off to cover her. Even if being naked wasn't taboo -- she was the Luna now (and still his baby sister), and there was no way he was going to let her walk out in the streets with no clothes. Myranda was better than that shit.

Myranda looked at Jyriah for a moment in a stone trance, and said nothing. She was feeling nothing. Not rage, or relief. Nor anger or sadness. She was just....numb.

She could register the fact that there was screaming and words being spoken, but her brain was a brick wall that couldn't process any of it. It all just sounded like 'blah blah blah' and a foggy 'ah' that turned into a bright, high-pitched noise.

As Metas continued to gnaw on what looked like the remnants of a face-mask, his elder brother looked away so that he could stare into his wife's eyes without guilt.

To even further that plan, Ajax had taken to the task of clearing the pathway to the door, and pushed off what was left of it, to boot. As the slats of wood hit the floor, large tufts of dust exploded from the ground and off of furniture.

This place hadn't been lived in for quite some time.

Metas didn't need the older Prince's help, so he made his way back to the entrance of the home where Veltar and Joss had not only subdued Gerald, but the silver-haired male had constructed a small prison of light in which the crumpled up wolf was laying in. He was unconscious, but alive.

"So this happened...." Ajax started and looked at his former friend with disgust and disappointment.

"I'm speechless to be honest." He followed up and crossed his arms in anger.

"What do you want to do with him?" Joss asked and nodded towards the torn up Gerald.

"Leave him for Metas. If I'm thinking like he is - and I'm pretty sure we are - he's going to want to teach this fuck-face a lesson." Ajax answered with hatred deeply intoned into each word.

They didn't have to wait long.

Metas came down the hall following Jyriah and Myranda dragging a limp Lobos by his left, mortal foot like a dog bringing back a kill to its master.

Even with his black coat, it was obvious that he was covered in blood.

The King said nothing, but walked to his wife's side and looked at her knowingly.

Myranda merely followed behind her husband after she handed her brother's shirt back to him and took to her four paws so she could walk proudly beside him.

Whatever they had said to each other was lost upon everyone else, but it seemed to help wake the Luna from the confines of her mind.

Then, she 'spoke' on his behalf with a strong, angry voice.

"He wants you to drag Gerald, Ajax. He wants them both taken back to the palace. Even if they die along the way, they are going to be made example of."

"Joss, Jyriah, Veltar - he would like you to follow behind the three of us to assert that you are apart of the royal pack. We want to make a statement that takes no words, and will leave a lasting impression."

After she said that, she didn't stop for questions. She didn't need to. After those words, she had truly become a Luna.