Joseph M. Menalcan - Part Two
Douglas's gaze meticulously ran through every tile, wall and ornament ruined during that evening's clash, all while maintaining an almost religious silence. As he walked along the corridors, weighing the report received, he gave the impression of being a pilgrim intent on traveling the Via Crucis, but if no sound came from his lips, the body could easily describe the state of mind in which he was. The tension in his shoulders, as well as the decisive strides, albeit short, were synonymous of the anger he was holding, while his hands clasped behind the back indicated the effort he was making not to turn around, grab one of his subordinates, and split his head against the granite.
«Fior-Ghlan... the thoroughbreds» turning into the next corridor, the one where until a couple of hours before the enemy's corpse was, the Alpha allowed himself the first words from the moment he arrived: «the descendants of Fenrir and Arianrhod... »
In the father's tone, all too calm given the circumstances, Joseph heard an unpleasant note, a poisonous sound that made him bite his tongue forcefully, so as to prevent himself from saying even half a syllable - at that moment, probably, even the lighter than the noises could have unleashed the wrath of the man in front of him.
«The wolves, the real ones» Douglas's feet stopped and so did those of the young man, who however was careful not to shorten the distance between them; becoming the target of the chieftain's wrath was certainly not something to aspire to, especially knowing the violence with which he could have hurled himself against the victim. That man was a real mastiff, a hunter, a murderer, a brute - and they weren't just adjectives attached to him only to make him more threatening in the eyes of others, they were all real facets of his highly questionable person.
«Yet the most incapable!» With a scream and a lightning gesture of the hand, the Alpha hurled himself against the first object he could find, overturning it to the ground. The painting, one of the few left hanging, crashed to the ground, breaking away from the frame. The thud echoed throughout the corridor, perhaps even startling some of those present, but what most of all stiffened Joseph was the uncoordinated sound of his father's breathing. The air came out of his mouth exactly like an animal, while his shoulders rose and fell rhythmically under the dark suit. It wouldn't have been strange to see him bend into a mutation and pounce without logic on one of the werewolves there with them, yet none of this happened; his voice began to fill the space again, echoing on both the plaster and the granite, then coming to threaten the eardrums with extreme vehemence.
«How the hell was that possible, huh?! Will you explain it to me? We are the most powerful, spotless and ancient herd in Europe, while they?! They are just Neo-Ghlan! Filthy worms crawled out of our feces!» Another object crashed to the ground, but this time, Douglas turned to the mere procession behind him - and everyone present, including Joseph and Kyle, could see how anger had transfigured the man's features were, making him look more like to a beast than to a human. The canines protruded over the sides of the mouth, forcing the lips, now of an unnatural color, to remain separate, while the area of the septum and forehead had changed significantly, giving him an even more furious look. The hairline was no longer as clean as before, but it was camouflaged in the midst of long dark hair that reached the eyebrows, becoming almost one.
«I can't understand your failure!» Even the voice had changed. From the throat came guttural sounds, growls, to tell the truth. «I should slaughter you all! One by one! What happened tonight is inconceivable!»
And how can someone blame him? From a Clan like theirs one would have expected anything but such a disaster. Yet anyone present could have confirmed that there was not a single werewolf who had avoided the almost martial regime imposed by their Alpha. By the age of six, each of the members of the pack had been forced to learn to hunt, stalk, kill any creature that could happen to him as an opponent or prey. In short, they were certainly not unprepared, even if the theft of Fenrir's Dagger could have indicated the exact opposite.
There was also to say, however, that even thoroughbreds like them, in human form, could do little against the four-legged Neo-Ghlan - and if really those bastards had managed to catch his companions by surprise, the slaughter that took place in there seemed less ridiculous, thought Joseph.
«And now we need to fix it, you idiots. We must take revenge in the most heinous way! I want their blood, okay? Because I, your Alpha, the Menalcan Lord, cannot accept my heirloom being in their filthy paws!» With a couple of strides Douglas nullified the distance between himself and the son, but the latter did not retreat, remaining motionless in front of the old man. He had to look confident, convinced, ruthless at the right point to be able to persuade the man in his presence; so, when their eyes met, the boy tried to support his father's gaze for as long as possible, even if the authority of the pack leader was not a simple challenge.
«I have a proposal» he hissed, clenching the fists in the pockets enough to put his nails into the palms.«Oh, really?» The breath of the Alpha was full of whiskey that he must have been drained before facing that return, hot and sticky in an almost nauseating way. Joseph wanted to push him away, as much as possible from his own person, but he restrained himself: challenging him was the last of his wishes.
He bit his tongue, nodding.«And what would you like to do, son?»
He would not have admitted it, on the contrary, he would have preferred to react in a completely different way to that whisper, yet he could not prevent the body from becoming even more rigid. The tension was slowly bending him, but he had to resist, demonstrate his wit.
«The corspe we found was young, too much, for Arwen's standards. The inexperience of that Neo-Ghlan was clear and it is not like him to send the newbies to the massacre, am I wrong?» he paused briefly, wetting his lips. They had followed each other for almost ten years now, and although they had never really focused on the strategy of those mestizos, underestimating them, something had still managed to learn it. «This makes me believe that he no longer has sealgairean, or at least that they are in short supply.»
Douglas's head dangled to one side and the expression softened. Somehow that theory seemed to catch his attention - and Joseph should have used the moment: «What if we used this necessity in our favor?»
«Explain yourself.»His heart leapt into the throat. He would never have imagined that such a request, as well as the desired one, could put him in awe, and yet he was almost crushed by it. Again, running his tongue over the lower lip, he resumed: «Moving in groups, as a Clan, we risk being too identifiable, of making them escape: it has already happened. But this time we cannot afford it, there is our honor at stake. So why not go into their pack? Why not indulge their needs and then stab them in the heart?» In saying those words, he was sure, his grimace must have taken a satisfied turn. He felt the excitement pinch his cheeks and, in not hearing an answer, he really believed he had convinced the Alpha. After all, it was a simple plan, albeit terribly dangerous, but it was also what in his eyes seemed to be the most viable. A somewhat cowardly action, perhaps, but in the war everything was allowed, especially if it went away with the reputation and power of an entire family: the Menalcans.
«Let me understand...» Douglas raised a corner of his mouth, in a sign of ridicule: «Are you planning to send one of these idiots into the arms of the enemy?» With his open hand, the old man pointed to the werewolf huddle gathered at the beginning of the corridor, all silent and debased, far from appearing worthy of such a task - and in fact, looking at them, the boy could not help thinking that trusting just one of them would have been complicated for him too; the only one who would have excluded from the disappointing group behind him was Kyle, the most faithful and prepared companion he had ever had, but also himself.
Yeah, himself.An even crazier idea than the one just suggested to his father flashed into his mind.Who else could he trust so blindly? Who would have given him the certainty of acting for the herd to the last? Who wouldn't the Alpha have doubted?
«No,» he said firmly at that point: «not them. Me.»«You, my heir, the blood of my blood?»Joseph nodded for the second time, more and more determined, although he knew well that behind him Kyle was ready to get in the way and prevent him from throwing himself with open arms into the jaws of the enemies.
«It's been years since I last faced one of those rogues, they won't recognize me. Also, I am among the most promising wolves you have here, am I wrong? And if anything happens to me, Gabriel and Leah will be there to carry on your lineage.»
Biting his tongue, the boy tried to hold the father's gaze again, to show him how much he really believed in that madness, but the more time passed, the more he realized that he had been a little too hasty. Was he really sure that sacrificing himself for the Clan was the best choice?
Douglas tilted his head to the other side. It was clear that he was weighing the words of his son, that was passing them over his tongue like a succulent piece of meat. There was a different glow in his gaze now. The hunter in him seemed to have awakened, leaving at rest the angry beast dozing and ready to chase.
«Well then, you will be the one to bring Arwen Calhum's head to me... because as you said, you are not the only heir, but if you succeed, you will be one step closer to my throne.» And so saying, emitting a last snarl, the pack leader retraced his steps, casting an angry look where a small and lonely patch of blood had escaped the cleaning, testifying the blow suffered.