Before the first warrior in line could shift, Deimos’s wolf lunges for the male’s throat giving him the gift of surprise.
The warrior tries to fend him off with his claws that sink into my king’s flesh with ease but he is relentless his teeth bite into the tenderness of the male’s shoulder tearing a piece of flesh spitting it upon the ground as if he found the taste vile as the warrior groans and grunts in agony to what is inflicted upon his body.
Deimos’s wolf is unmerciful with the warrior fighting only with teeth that shred his flesh into pieces littering the ground with meat and blood. It is a quick death he gives him a deep hole he punctures into the skull of the wolf crushing the skull between his jaw holding him under his heavy paws until life drains from the male’s eyes.
Once he is satisfied with his masterpiece that he has created he meets the eyes of the next wolf already shifted and waiting, a lesson learned from the first one. Understanding overflows within me, the more I witness the more I understand. Everything he has ever said to me for the past months. His gut-wrenching sadness, his worries and his deep-rooted fear.
This is what it all meant. That he as an Alpha would take the lives of the members of his pack. Something I could not imagine myself doing, I cannot kill my females, my males even if it meant my title was threatened. I saw the memories, that he had with these warriors that seek his death.
The laughter, the meals they shared as one, Deimos had trained them personally they looked up to him. This was his punishment for his past sins.
Deimos and the warrior circle each other head low vicious growls booming from within the pit of their chests, there is a rumble to the ground beneath us of the pheromones and power Deimos shows on display. He is not afraid of showing who he is, the true essence of him. Alpha.
Ragon’s hold on me loosens, I could have brought this male down for blocking my path but I possess the ability to understand situations quite well and my interference at this point is unnecessary for it is the Alpha’s fight.
The elders watch the brawl with an eerie calmness as if it were a spectacle worth not missing. My wolf claws my insides snarling wanting control so she can kill them all. They are all unworthy in her eyes. Unworthy to be in this pack, of having Deimos as their Alpha.
The warrior is the first to lunge for Deimos, this is a sign of weakness for he rushed unpreparedly in fear and anxiety. Deimos’s wolf’s lips curl back as though he was smiling already for the victory that shall come forth. Teeth meet teeth, claws sink deep into the flesh. Deimos draws the first blood a sign of overpowering, a sign of strength.
The warrior’s grey wolf is strong and fierce for after all he was trained by Deimos. Dread rises from within me each wolf Deimos needs to kill is for purely one need. Rather a basic instinct. Survival.
There is no easy battle with this warrior compared to the first one, he has watched and analyzed Deimos’s movements so he is able to dodge and slide past the attacks. This does not hinder Deimos’s fight but helps him change strategy and tactics.
He does not go for the throat anymore but the hind legs, jaws try to clamp around and break them but with this came the difficulty. The warrior is quick with his legs disallowing it to happen. He is trying to tire out Deimos.
The loud wail of my male from the middle of the crowd causes immediate silence, his shriek shattering through the core of his fight.
Kal has consumed the tension that divided the pack and couldn’t hold furthermore. Deimos’s ears perk up immediately attention taken quickly wavering red eyes try to find his male among the crowd. The warrior takes this as his chance and sinks his teeth into the side of his neck.
A scream threatens to leave my mouth whilst my heart pounds with every strike Deimos receives. His wolf whines loudly to the warrior’s teeth plunged into his body, he needs to get away before his bones are crushed for it shall happen it can render him helpless.
It is a game for catch for them both, eyes prying looking for visible weakness to take advantage of. Claws scrape the open underbelly of the warrior with a surprising swiftness drawing blood Deimos extracts it only to plunge it deeply once more, the male howls with misery falling to the grass floor for his underbelly is cut open the insides in sight.
Whilst the warrior struggles to get back on his paws, my king shows him his path to the moon. Canines sink into the male’s carpus crushing the bone leaving him immobile. But I see the peace in the male’s eyes for now he knows his fight is finally over. Now he can rest, for he has fought according to the wishes of the pack. An honourable death.
The male looks up at Deimos and with a low whimper offers his neck to him a sign of submission. A roaring thunderous howl of victory booms through Deimos’s chest as teeth wreck the tender flesh of the warrior’s neck a second kill for the Alpha.
Barbaric and monstrous is what Deimos did with the rest of the warriors who stood in line. It was a cold-blooded fight for survival but his wolf was bloodthirsty and beastly in his ways as he tore apart the wolves one by one. With the slow death of the warriors, the determination held in the eyes of the elders started to fade replaced with trepidation. They had underestimated him, of his power. They would pay if they continued with their antics, this understanding to them came forth into light.
Deimos pulls apart the head from the body of the last wolf he sent to the moon grabbing it by the fur he tugs on it as the torn head slides upon the ground behind him. He pulls it until he is near the elders.
Meeting each one of their eyes lips curled back canines itching to kill further with sonorous growls rumbling surging from his chest he drops it at their feet. The elders take a step back eyes widening to his action. His throne is reclaimed. It is his.
Confusion piles in within wolves, many thinking wondering if they should come to our side. Perhaps the pack shall be one again with time not voluntarily but from angst and respect of their Alpha.
His steps are heavy and prideful as he paces in circles in the middle around the corpses. He is waiting. Waiting for the next wolf who wishes to fight to him. But no male comes forward they have seen his war, his fight. They all know it now, he has instilled it within their minds. If one wishes to take his title they shall be sent to the moon.
He sits on his hind legs sweeping his eyes through the crowd, silence consumes us as we watch him. No one daring to even make a single sound, pups are taken to the back of the crowd as to not cause a disturbance. It is done.
The wolves bow deeply to him many kneeling their heads placed upon the grass floor. The elders watch on as the pack makes a path for him to have his walk of victory. My eyes burn through the elders, I sneer at them a flash of fang shown to strike them from my side. They kneel.
The king walks through the path looking from side to side paws heavy as they pound the ground, his pheromones saturate the air we breathe and his pack tremble and whine to his unleashed power. He shows them his authority, his place that is at the top of the hierarchy.
He strides forward as a true warrior, he has fought well and now he shall rest. The pack begins to rise after his disappearance chattering among themselves, news of this shall spread across every pack out there. How the Alpha of Alphas was challenged for his rightful place and how he reclaimed it.