Grayell stood from the bed, smiling just a little at the corner of his mouth. His body was alive, the pains and aches of age were gone. It was almost electric, his muscles were so ready to burn, his bones feeling so... free. He rolled his neck, through his shoulders and down his arms. His hands clenched, opened and he rocked onto the ball of his feet. It was incredible. His eyes were still on the woods beyond his house, seeing through so much. Knowing so much.
His teeth slid across each other.
I'm... I feel hungry. Yes. That's it.
He looked to her with a smile and his eyes were a dazzling blue, sparkling with a renewed energy. He seemed larger, muscles more defined, posture impeccable but ready. He was brighter.
Grayell stretched, arms wide then up, fingers apart. He sighed, a slow, delicate breath that caused goosebumps to wash over his bare skin. He rocked his jaw, it didn't snap which was odd. It had done that for years.
He paced, without noise or a bounce on the floor and leaned on the rail at the edge of his house. He looked below, up.... with a look of sheer fascination and contentment. He didn't quite seem to be paying attention to her - he was paying attention to everything.
No. That's good.
Tell me they deserved it. Tell me I would have done the same.
Grayell stopped. His eyes closed. A dread came over him, but it was all as empowering as the prior sensation. Air rushed in through his nostrils like a hot flame and his hands closed, muscles winding like cord. The rail in his grip cracked.
When they are a piece of crap. There's plenty of them out there. They're a better hunt. They put up a fight. I taught you this. Bring wrath on those who deserve it, seek it out. Cull the herd.
Grayell shattered the rail. His lower jaw stretched, bulged. He swallowed it back, the wolf wasn't getting out just yet. He had control. Intuitive control. It came through in his voice though, gravelly, growling undertones.... but his words were filled with conviction.
Choose your words very carefully. An alpha chooses to not have his pack kill indiscriminately. Better to stay sharp, kill what is worthy, to savor the hunt, to relish the meal.
To pick off easy prey is the act of a starving, lone animal. There is no pride in it. It shames the pack. It is not the way.
Grayell turns to face her. He stares with eyes that see through her and immediately assert his station. As his woman, his mate she too held such station but to question him or dishonor him would be foolish. She knew this... they all did.
I am going to place my trust in you. If you choose to cast that aside, then we are done.
You can smell murder on them. You can sense the blackness in their heart. So I ask again. Tell me they deserved death.
She looked down, sighed, then looked back up at him, smiling. She was his Beta, his mate, in the hierarchy of the pack she was second only to him. She had given control of the pack to him willingly because she loved him...but that didn't mean that she didn't have power. She smiled lovingly and mentally calmed her pulse....and lied.
I'm sorry, Alpha. They did. I've been without you for so long, a wolf by myself, I didn't think about it. She got up and walked towards him, putting her arms around his neck.
We found some bandits on the road west. You were...reluctant at first, but when we found that they had kidnapped some poor boy you unleashed the beast. She gave him a quick kiss.
He studied her eyes a moment longer than she was comfortable with. Grayell seemed far too perceptive, even in his altered state.... but he nodded and finally smiled.
Then good. You should be proud. I won't fall into the depravity that Verick calls power.
Grayell sighed as he smiled - and then leaned and dropped backward off the balcony. He turned in the air and his body shifted, landing with a light thud on all four paws. He turned, looked back to her, a glimmering coat of silver snow and intense blue eyes. He was large, very large, his shoulders and haunches showing muscle through his fur. A proud creature and a rarity among their kind.
He licked his lips and then ran into the treeline with sensational speed, a silver mist that rolled over the ground with the grace of water.
Grayell was fast, his form a symphony of movement as he weaved, ducked under and bounded over the many obstacles of the forest. He had put a little distance between them and broke into a small clearing and into the sunlight, running up the length of a fallen but leaning tree. He stopped at it's highest point, eyes to the sun... then turned to see her, his tail swaying.
Grayell's eyes followed hers and he pressed his nose into her neck, nuzzled against it before dragging his neck over her shoulders.
I am. But it can wait.
He pivoted and then shoved her with his shoulders, bumping her off the log. As she landed and rolled, he dropped on top of her.... and licked her mouth and nose. It was strange that it came back to him so easily and his heightened awareness made everything that much more fantastic, enjoyable.
He growled in her ear playfully and nipped, tugged at it before bouncing away.