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In the days that had followed his testing of Widow’s strength and tenacity, Reaver had become far more present in the cavernous holds of their makeshift home. He rested in the tunnels that lead to the hollow that Jaidah, Gehenna, and Widow slept within. Despite his admission to himself that this was where he wanted to be, it did not change the breadth of his shoulders or the slightness of the entrance to the cave. Even though he was unable to pass the access, he remained. His white temptress had been gone for some couple of days now, and the itching desire to go out and find her made Reaver pace the hall. His hackles prickled with distaste, and the fur brushed against the ceiling as he moved back and forth. Occasionally Widow’s young nose would poke from the den and her father would snarl at her, ordering her to stay within. In his frustration he knew that he was a threat to both of the girls, and despite the primal instinct that had begun to fester within him – a want for the girls of his blood to survive and thrive – his still demanded that they survive by their own merit. And his jaws would readily test such a thing.
Black nostrils flared and his incessant movement ceased as the scent of blood flooded his senses. His dark crown lifted and the tips of his ears pressed against the roof of the cavern. Mingling with that mouth watering odor was the perfume of the alabaster siren who had somehow enraptured him. He thundered down the tunnel to meet her, jaws gaping to take the side of her neck in his mouth as they met in a dance that had become almost ritualistic to the dark minded pair. He filled his mouth with her fur to the point where his fangs just touched her skin, and then he withdrew and allowed her to pass so that she might gather the girls. As she slinked past him his eyes landed upon the gaping wound upon her hip, and he clung to her side at that point. His tongue extended to lap at the blood and his pupils constricted with pleasure at the taste of her. It was not the first – and certainly would not be the last – time he had tasted her lifeblood, but in knowing someone else had inflicted this wound upon her he felt a guttural fury well within him. She was his, and for another to dare to touch her was intolerable.
But the pride that rolled of Jaidah in every way shape and form kept him distracted, and he dogged her every step as they made their way from the caverns. Widow remained close to her mother’s side while Gehenna strayed – though she always returned. Reaver’s eyes narrowed upon the girl, wondering if she would survive her first winter. If not, her body would help to sustain the life of her sister and mother.
When they moved over the borders of a pack land, the monstrous male stopped, watching as his ivory bitch made her territorial display. His eyes narrowed as he lifted his gaze to look out across the land; an open expanse of rolling plain stretched before them, and off in the distance he could even catch the glint of sun reflecting off water. A few trees speckled the horizon, but nothing clustered together to enclose him. He stretched to his full, domineering height and rolled his shoulders pleasantly. He now understood precisely what had happened – Jaidah had taken this land for herself, for him, for their offspring. Purposeful strides carried him across the border then to watch as she lifted her bloodied mouth to the skies and call out for the shadows of Moladion to come take their place at her side. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to take her and ensure Widow was not the only strength bred of their blood, but he refrained. Instead, he moved past her with a final lick to the still oozing wound upon her hip, before taking his place off to the side of her point of hip.
He knew others would come, and so with a lack of shadows to be had, he simply lowered his behemoth frame into the tall grasses. He practically disappeared within the fading foliage, but those with a keen eye would be able to pick out the red that mingled with the off-green of the autumn grass. From there he watched as Jaidah and Widow greeted two young boys, as Reaver’s tongue slipped out and washed his muzzle in hunger. They would be an easy first meal for the family in their new home. But instead they were welcomed and Jaidah assumed a protective stance as another approached. This one was darker of hue, a large male with blackened eyes that she welcomed as well.
When the small female arrived Reaver hardly took notice, for his eyes were glued upon the interaction taking place between his daughter and one of the boys. His brows drew together, but he made not motion to interrupt them. Widow had proved to her father she was made of strength, and he would allow her to test the tenacity of the one who challenged her. It was only the flashing movement of Jaidah that drew his attention away, and the pursuit of the darker male that suddenly made his lips peel back in a silent grimace. His mass suddenly lifted from the grasses that sheltered him, and with a pounding gait he moved between Jaidah and the male who had called himself Eyeless Jack. His timing was nigh on perfect, for he was already in motion to thrust his weight against her shoulder when Reaver inserted himself in the mix and stood stock still. Jack’s forceful shove met the strength of Reaver’s shoulder, and he was an immovable wall. Deep teal eyes laced with dark green glared at those of pit-less black, not in challenge but simply in warning. Reaver stood a good two inches taller than him and outweighed him with ease, and Jaidah was his and his alone to touch with such aggressiveness. Jack would not be allowed such pleasures.
Turning a shoulder to Jack he pursued Jaidah, keeping a lookout to see if Jack would dare to truly challenge the Dread of Asteraia for his claim over the Night. Powerful ivory legs brought him to her side and he nipped at her good hip, an action made to remind her who she really wanted to ‘play’ with.
REAVER
SEVEN - 42 IN/216 LBS - CASANOVA - ALONE - TOBIAS x AALIYAH