Fists and Fangs | bxb

5. Realization

Alarion had skipped school the following week and lazed around at home, trying to finish his painting, but he couldn't paint past the eyes.

"Get up, you're going to school," Lyris threw his son's flight keys to him.

Alarion narrowed his eyes at his father from where he was lying lazily on the bed. "I'm quite comfortable."

Lyris raised a brow. "You're going to school."

He left Alarion to wash up and get ready, and the latter did so, with a grumpy look on his face. He wore his white graphic tee, sweatpants and wore a bomber jacket, and slipped his transmitter on his jacket, and grabbed his sunglasses.

He might have taken a slight detour on the way to school, looking down at the sun shone city beneath him, and dipped down at the ocean, gliding on the water.

He adjusted his sunglasses and slowly guided his plane up, and after twenty minutes of basking in the sun, he flew back to school.

After parking his flight he once again spotted Harry chatting away with Brandon, but he had no time to think about that once the smell of blood hit his nose.

Alarion rushed inside the school and manoeuvred his way to the source of the smell. His heart was threatening to jump outside of its cage and Alarion felt everything at once--the smell of blood and the most inviting scent calling him.

Alarion's fangs extended and he was moving so fast, people didn't even see him pass through--they were human after all.

He came to a halt when he found out the source of the blood and the scent were all the same.

Mate?

He noticed a group of guys surrounding somebody at the far end of the hallway, and Alarion was fuming. No rational thoughts were going through his mind and all he wanted to do was count their bones.

He clenched his fists and marched forward, and pulled the first boy he could get his hands on and punched the boy, making him see stars as he collapsed to the ground.

He was kicking and puching everybody who came his way, blocking the view of his mate.

Alarion noticed the blood seeping out on the floor from the corner of his eyes, and quickly rushed to the side, ready to face his mate. By this time, a crowd had gathered, through which Harry and Brandon were pushing their way through.

Alarion remained motionless when he crouched low beside his mate.

He didn't do anything, and only stared for seconds which felt like eternity.

He snapped out of his reverie and saw blood flowing out of his mate's nose and legs.

His mate was slowly losing consciousness, and Alarion held his mate's head in his hands, trying to keep him awake.

His mate slowly opened his eyes, with a frown.

"....yugh! Avyugh! Don't sleep!...yugh!"

Avyugh closed his eyes.

--

Alarion clenched his jaw as he looked at his sleeping mate, and kept his fangs intact, not once shaked at the sight of blood.

His mate's blood.

Alarion had brought him to a makeshift nurse near the kingdom, where many witches practiced their magic.

"He's alright now," Tolen replied, walking inside the tent. "There's nothing a little magic can't fix."

Alarion nodded. "Thanks."