He felt a split second of contentedness as he pulled Denali away from the male, her tiny body all too easy to slide across the wet dirt and mud. He had not the time to worry about her condition, for at least she was still moving enough to prove herself alive. The air was thick with blood but it only served to fuel his fire. The moment she was out of reach, he did not hesitate to throw himself back into the fray. With Aithne here, he had no doubt (not like he had any initially, anyway) that they could put this male in the ground where he belonged. Perhaps, in a way, this was some kind of bonding activity between a pack wolf and their designated leader. He had to admit, he did feel much more connected to the top of the hierarchy in the midst of such chaos. Who would have thought?

It seemed, however, that the male had moved much more rapidly than Astaroth had expected. His own fury seemed to intensify his desires, his body lurching forward towards Astaroth and Denali. Astaroth rose to the challenge, his hackles igniting along his spine as he snarled, a bellowing bark of a snarl. He braced himself, standing defiantly over Denali, his eyes red with bloodlust. It worked as a direct challenge, welcoming Kaius' attempt. It worked, too, as a distraction. From behind, Aithne went to work, plowing forward in an effort to throw the male off balance enough to leave an opening.

The opening did not go unnoticed. The skin practically pulsated from beneath the fur, a red hot artery just waiting to be pried into. Astaroth lurched forward with a short burst of strength, charging head long into Kaius. His jaws burst open in a flurry of fang and saliva, his massive skull moving to very well headbutt Kaius' own face away. Astaroth's head rattled, but he did not step. He shoved forward into the deep, fibrous flesh of the male's neck, a bubbling, frothing snarl resonating from within as he began to chew his way towards the male's windpipe and the all too vital artery that lay close by.

Blood poured out almost immediately. It washed down his chest and legs, pouring out in a trickle across Denali who lay close by. His father had always spoken on inducting a demon in such a way, with the blood of the weak or the enemies. Surely, there had never been such a perfect way of bringing somebody into the fold.