MEN SHOULD KEEP THEIR WORD . . .

Unimaginable pain swept through the male as he carried his dead daughter through the trees. How could he have let this happen to his little girl? Sure she was a teen now and not physically so little. But he would always remember her as the young and curious pup that she had been. She had reminded him so much of Macaria, with her orange hued eyes and mottled pelt. Before any thought of his mate brought him happiness and joy. But that had been turned to anger and despair. If her kind didn’t exist this never would have happened. Something of pure evil did this to Missandei. If the male had been in sane mindset he would realize how ridiculous he was being. Any wolf, vampire or otherwise, had the capability of being evil. He knew that first hand from when he was young and in his original pack. There had been no vampires there but his family had still been murdered in cold blood. And there was no vampire associated with the wolf that raped and killed his sister. No there were plenty of evil creatures that had no ties to the night. And although Macaria might sometimes come off as a cruel wolf, having found a taste for her own kind and being a polygamous wolf, in his heart Grey Wind knew how kind and loving she was. Even if they were not always showing those sides of each other. But grief had consumed his mind, and he needed to find something to blame it on. But blaming this deed by one vampire was entirely unfair to blame on his mate.

All rational thought aside, the male ran to his den, anger driving him forward. As soon as he reached the space, he gently lowered Missandei’s corpse to the ground, swiping a kiss along her brow before he threw his head to the sky and demanded his mate to appear. Normally he would not call to her so harshly, but all sense of normal was gone. The femme responded quickly to his call, which didn’t surprise him. There was no friendly happy tone to his vocals. But instead it was filled with grief and rage, something that would indicate urgency. And Macaria clearly picked up on that as she came sprinting to their den. The male was pacing around his daughter when his mate arrived, unable to keep his paws still. And he was afraid if he laid down next to Missandei, the grief would truly consume him and overwhelm him. And he couldn’t bear for that to happen. Not yet anyways. Eventually he would have to give in to his emotions in order to heal. But he wasn’t ready. Once Macaria took in the site, she immediately began spewing off words, and her voice made the male freeze. “What happened? Who did this? If it is that little whelp of a boy I will skin him alive and tear him to pieces, all while his heart still beats in his chest!” He couldn’t look at her. Why couldn’t she see what had happened? A growl escaped his throat as he forced the words out through gritted teeth. ”How can you not tell who killed her? Do you not sense what did this to her? That her blood has been drained. That there is nothing of her left. It was not that stupid boy…he suffered the same fate.” In his grieving pain the male did not think of how hateful and hurtful his words were. That it was entirely unfair to blame vampires for this and to expect Macaria to figure out what had happened when she was not the one to find them.

Macaria’s form drew closer to him, and he recoiled away. He didn’t want anything to touch him right now. He needed comfort, and he needed to comfort his mate. But his mind wouldn’t let either happen. “What is wrong come on my love? Other than our daughter being dead, why do you not to comfort me? Why do you not come to me for comfort?” Grey Wind had to swallow the snarl and snap that wanted to come out. He wanted to hurt whichever beast had done this. He wanted to feel them bleed by his teeth and claws, to hear them scream and beg. He needed to feel something other than the overwhelming pain he felt. And he didn’t know how to express that. He should have realized Macaria would be feeling similar feelings, that she would need what he needed. But he was being too selfish right now. Ignoring the female’s questions, yellow orbs filled with tears finally settled on his daughter’s stiffened form. The more he stared, the more he let himself feel. It was real. As much as he was trying to convince himself that it was a nightmare, he knew it was real. He had felt Missandei’s cold form. He could smell the stench of death. No dream could imitate that to this detail. ”How did this happen to her?” The male’s vocals came out in a whisper as he finally collapsed to the ground. He belly crawled until he was laying parallel to Missandei, his muzzle burying in her nape as he tried to hide his tears, from himself and from Macaria.