Second Assault — Bond And Treason —

ALEXEI

—Angelo — I have to fight to be able to pronounce the words through the thick knot that has been created in my throat —. For God's sake, tell me it's not true... — he lowers the gaze and begins to twist his fingers nervously on the lap.

Yaakov rests the elbows on his knees and drops his head between the hands.

—Shit... — I hear him whispering. I jump up and walk in long strides across the room.

I have trouble breathing, my body feels stiff and tense, sweat drops begin to slide down my forehead and my pulse beats rapidly in my neck.

I remove the coat from my suit, my tie and throw it somewhere, too immersed in my turbulent thoughts to care.

I release three buttons from my shirt and try to make the air fill my lungs

—Magnus, stop — My cousin's voice causes just a distant sound echo in my head. I can't see anything, I can't hear anything. I feel only anger. Red, thick, toxic, rotten anger. Images of Xander being hurt, tortured, outraged and humiliated mock my sanity with disturbing constancy.

My claws begin to extend at the ends of my fingers, the hair on the back of my neck gets longer and so do my fangs. My breath is shaking incredibly fast and my lucidity seems to leave me with the same speed.

—That's enough! — Yaakov puts the hands on my shoulders and squeezes hard, shaking me. That's when I notice the smell of blood... I'm bleeding —. Stop it! — My claws have pierced my palms, making red drops fall on the clean wooden floor, and I don't know at what moment I have torn the fabric of my shirt, causing long, thin scratches to pierce the skin of my torso.

—Yaakov, I need... — the words come out practically in grunts, my wolf tearing me apart inside, trying to take over —. I need to... Run — He stares at me and I notice the understanding gaining clarity in his features. He nods slowly and the grip loosens, though he still doesn't release me.

—It's okay. Just make sure you don't spend the night out — he leans closer to whisper —. Remember, Xander still needs you.

Nodding, unable to formulate the words, blinking quickly to chase away the persistent tears that threaten to come out. Yaakov holds me by one arm and guides me to the exit. I don't know if Angelo is following us and honestly, I'm not interested at this moment.

What I need now is to give some relief to the weight that has just settled on my shoulders. By the time we get out, the sun is already setting on the horizon and the sounds of cicadas and birds flying around the property are present.

I take a deep breath, trying to retain the change a little longer.

—On the way here I could see a small creek over there — points out the direction I should take —. You can wander around there peacefully, but don't do anything crazy, Magnus. Do you understand me? — I nod again, biting my lips so hard that the metallic taste invades my taste buds —. Give some relief to your wolf and when you return, I'll make sure I have new clothes and food for you and Xander.

pats me on the back and I start walking, towards a pile of trees on

clothing, my shoes, and release myself. The change subdues my human side, leaving the domain to my animal one. Suddenly, I no

and run until I reach the small creek that Yaakov mentioned. The water is crystal clear and surrounded by lush grass in shades of green, brown, and

approach it and allow my legs to get wet with its warmth. Sadness takes hold quickly and without limit in the solitude that surrounds me. I suffer for Xander, I grieve for his cruelly stolen virtue and I sorrow that I was stupid

I cry to Mother Moon. The strength and the intensity make me feel as if my throat is tearing, my claws are

and defeated, having failed miserably to protect his

at the entrance to the house, a pair of clothes resting on one thigh, and a cigarette is held between his

the courage I feel lacking, until Yaakov looks up and notices my presence.

invoke my human side and feel the changes take over my body

can speak, when in reality I want to cry out and learn how to appease the burning pain in my

of shoes —. Cover yourself up and join us for dinner — I slide the clothes over my skin until my figure

the keyboard. Yaakov passes by me and sits down next to him. In the kitchen is Rosé with big oven mitts reaching down to her elbows, pulling a tray with a golden

hands, with black pants just like mine, with gaps that expose the skin on his knees. He is barefoot and I know perfectly well that it is on his

chest as I watch him more and more,

the many I have missed from him since he was taken from me. Quickly runs in my direction and surrounds my neck with the arms, I with mine encircle his waist and lift him slightly off the ground. He is thinner, his limbs

cook? — he moves the head up and down, nodding at my question. I still worry about his refusal to talk, but the last thing I want is for him to feel pressured to do something that

dinner — Xander steps away from me, pulls out one of the chairs, and points to it, indicating to me to take a seat. The gesture makes me laugh, but

setting the table, serve the plates of food, and place them in front of each other. Xander sits next to me

by wrapping one of my arms around his waist, I draw him further towards me. And so, in this uncomfortable position, we finish our food.

told you and take the pills. Okay? — Xander looks down at the hands on his lap, but still nods, looking embarrassed. I kiss him on the cheek and stand up, extending my hand in his direction, which he doesn't

—Thanks for everything.

nervous. I don't know what's

approach and stroke his cheek with one hand —. Don't you trust me? — He opens wide the eyes and

the bed and holds what I see as a black notebook, a string with a pencil attached to it. He opens it and begins to write on one of the pages.

my body, but I don't let it

me now, Xander. I won't let anyone hurt you —

— the air escapes my mouth in a faint gasp. I read and reread the message on

scowl forming between my eyebrows —. That'll never happen. You're my partner. You know I love you — his eyes turn crystalline and as he starts scribbling again on the page of the little notebook, his hands begin to

the rest —. "My body is not the same as it used to be... You won't like it" — a lonely tear runs down his cheekbone and I gently push it away with my knuckles. He