Enemy of my Enemy

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞

Present Day

A low exhale exited his mouth. When he opened his eyes, the world was glowing around him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so refreshed. His lips parted into a natural smile. There hadn't been anything to worry about, after all. 

How could anything go wrong in the tranquility of this cave, with the waking sunlight streaming in from outside, with the brisk breeze flying around in the atmosphere, with the pool of blood that he was sitting in?

Grayson froze. He refused to move his gaze from that single point in the cave, the only place that wasn't covered in claw marks or smeared with blood. He tried to swallow, but his throat wouldn't work.

Please, he prayed. Please, please let that be my own blood.

His eyes fell upon the crumpled husk of a girl that had been carelessly tossed aside.

"Bianca?" His voice held no fear, no worry. Her name rolled off his tongue in a mocking tone, and with it escaped a sneer. 

Grayson clamped a hand to his mouth, terrified of what had just happened.

"Bianca," he tried again, and his normal voice came out this time. "B-Bianca..."

He didn't want to, he knew he didn't want to... Grayson walked towards her, and turned her so that her back was pressed against the blood stained ground.

Grayson fell to his knees.

A stream of blood was trickling out of her open mouth. Three crimson slashes had taken residence upon her beautiful face. Her shirt had been shredded apart, and decorating her once perfect skin were countless scars whose sizes ranged from a finger's length to one that ran a path from her shoulder to her stomach.

"Please, be alive," he whispered. He couldn't have killed her. He couldn't have...

He recoiled, horrified, when a drop of blood crept out of her tear glands.

Her eyes were open. Her eyes were open, so why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she moving and talking and laughing to him, at him, making fun of him and ordering him around? Why were her parted lips not positioned in that twisted, devilish smile of hers?

It might've been his imagination, but he could've sworn her pupils had just moved- The millionth of an inch, or so. Still, that was enough hope for him.

"Bianca." He scrambled to his feet and lifted her up. She was as limp and as light as a doll. Trying his best not to completely fall apart, he placed her on his back, so that when he transitioned, her body was settled comfortably on his gray fur.

He had no clue as to how last night's battle had turned out. And frankly, he didn't care. He had much bigger things on his mind right now.

Getting back to the Redwood House took so much longer than he'd expected it to- Though he suspected it had more to do with the staggering weight of worries he was carrying, than with the actual distance itself.

The sun had completely risen by the time he arrived at the borders of his estate. He let a low howl into the air, and within seconds, the massive steel gates opened up to let him in.

Reyes and Jackson were waiting for him at the front doors of the manor. Both of them needed a few seconds to recognize to whom the body splayed across their alpha's back belonged- It was hard to see past all the blood on her face. They then had to do a double take to make sure Bianca was still breathing. Even with their supernatural hearing, it was hard to detect a pulse.

Neither of them spoke a word, much less asked any questions. Grayson noted their weary expressions, but it seemed they hadn't suffered any permanent injuries. He slunk off towards the entrance of the old storm cellar that had been built into the house. From there, he changed into the set of clothes that awaited him as quickly as possible, then burst up into the main hall.