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| Jackson |
The abandoned mining town lay still beneath the canopy of towering pines, the air thick with an eerie silence that echoed the anticipation of the looming confrontation. The battleground raged, framed by the skeletal remains of buildings, silent witnesses to a struggle between dark and light.
Kane, his black fur blending seamlessly with the shadows, moved with a sinister grace. His eyes betrayed a wicked intelligence as a subtle smirk curled on his lips. He circled Cyrus, who stood tall on his hind legs, his stoic demeanour belying an equal measure of caution. His wounds looked much worse than Kane's, but Jackson knew that was because his fur was white, the perfect canvas for the crimson dismay seeping from between his fur. Kane was bleeding all over the snow, leaving a trail as he prowled warily.
Jackson watched between the rubble of the building he lay in while Raphael tended to his wounds. The two monstrous wolves clashed in a dance of fangs and claws, each strike met with a counter from the other. The snowy ground beneath them bore witness to their ferocity, a rain of red marring the purity of the ice as they exchanged blows. The crowd, a sea of wolves divided between Cyrus' and Kane's packs, watched in breathless silence, seemingly oblivious to the storm of cadejo trying to breach their defences just a few feet away.
Unable to take his eyes off the fight, Jackson felt the weight of the impending doom hanging in the frigid air. His breath escaped in shallow puffs as he anxiously observed, knowing that the outcome could seal the fate of the entire wolf walker species.
The fight raged on, each combatant seemingly evenly matched, until Kane, true to his crafty, cowardly nature, executed a sudden move that caught Cyrus off guard. He lunged at Kane, who instinctually moved to block his attack just as he had several times before, but Kane moved with speed he hadn't displayed before, and when Cyrus lifted his arms in defence, the black wolf curved his strange body and savagely sunk his teeth into Cyrus' thigh. He yanked back and forth as Cyrus yelped in agony, and when he tore a huge chunk of the white wolf's flesh from his body, a low growl of satisfaction escaped Kane's maniacal breaths.
A surge of panic rippled through the onlooking crowd. Even Jackson flinched.
"Don't fucking move!" Raphael growled.
Jackson fell still but didn't spare his healer a chance. He couldn't look away, not for a moment.
Cyrus stumbled back and hit the ground, grasping his thigh with both his huge paws. Kane cackled as he prowled around him, and then he burst forward and clamped his jaws around Cyrus' arm. As the white Alpha snarled and yelped, Kane started tugging, harder and harder as his pack cheered him on. No matter how many times Cyrus' fist met the cruel wolf's face, Kane didn't let go, and when the sound of tearing flesh cut through the roaring crowd, Jackson cringed and fought the urge to look away.
But he was glad that he chose to keep watching.
Just as hope seemed to wither away, something miraculous occurred. Cyrus, battered and seemingly defeated, summoned a surge of strength from deep within. Despite the horrific injury on his leg, he managed to lift it and kick Kane's side, sending the black wolf stumbling aside. His white fur gleamed in the moonlight as he rose, a newfound determination burning in his eyes, and his wolves among the crowd, momentarily silenced by despair, erupted into gasps of disbelief and renewed hope.
With a roar that echoed through the snowy forest, Cyrus unleashed a torrent of power. His form seemed to radiate an otherworldly light, and the very ground quivered beneath him. Kane, caught off guard by the sudden reversal, found himself unable to withstand Cyrus' unleashed might. His desperate attempts to avoid and block each of Cyrus' devastating blows were almost laughable, and when he evidently worked out that it was over for him, he tried to turn around and run.
But Cyrus snatched him by his scruff and yanked him back. He then turned him around, grabbed his throat, and lifted him up off his paws.
Jackson's racing heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as he watched the massive Prime decide whether he wanted to tear Kane apart or not. He knew it was awful of him to hope that Cyrus would rip that creature to shreds, but he didn't regret it. Kane deserved to die; he had to pay for every single wolf he'd hurt and killed. He deserved to pay for what he did to Julian, Alastor, Enola, Bly, and Rachel. And Lumi, too. And all those people he'd locked up in that dungeon. All the humans he'd killed—the ones that weren't hunters, anyway. And all the wolves' lives he'd made hell. It was time for him to face his crimes.
And Cyrus seemed to share that notion.
The white wolf roared ferociously in Kane's face. Kane started begging like the pathetic coward he truly was, but Cyrus gave as few fucks as Jackson did. Without remorse, Cyrus gripped either of Kane's front legs, and with one powerful, disgusting pull, the black wolf's body tore into two, and as his insides started pouring out, Jackson grimaced and looked away. He'd seen enough.
He looked at his own injured body and watched as it slowly healed in response to Raphael's touch.
"Were you expecting any less?" the orange wolf muttered.
Jackson frowned. "What?"
"Kane didn't stand a chance against Cyrus. We all knew it."
"Oh...I mean I've never seen Cyrus fight, so I was a little worried, yeah," he admitted.
Raphael took his paws off Jackson's furred leg. "Lay there until you're told it's time to move out. Your body will do the rest on its own."
Jackson watched as the orange wolf turned around and went over to one of the other injured wolves. But before he could start thinking about the creature that gave him these wounds, the eerily silent battlefield snatched his attention.
He turned his head and peered through the rubble. Cyrus, triumphant yet exhausted, stood amidst the fallen snow. Every wolf began to bow their heads in recognition of his win, and it was then that Jackson realized that Cyrus' victory had saved everyone. Not just Kane's wolves, and not just his own or Damon's, but every single wolf walker—all of Caeleste kind, even. Now, Damon's pack could continue their mission to get to the lab, and hopefully, whatever waited inside would reveal the cure to the cadejo virus.
"Clear the cadejo out!" Cyrus' voice bellowed, his command reaching the ears of every capable wolf.
Jackson watched the crowd disperse and join the battle by the tree line. He wanted to get up and help, especially since Damon was out there, but he knew that his mate could handle himself, and in his current state, he'd be nothing but a burden and distraction to Damon. So, he remained where he was and observed as Cyrus' massive pack took down the swarming undead.
But something sat upon the howling breeze.
A voice.
A feeling.
A reminder.
That antlered creature was still out there...watching, waiting. Jackson could feel its eyes on him, he could feel how desperately it wanted him, and he could feel its animosity among the twisting trees.
"Jackson," its voice echoed, sending chills down Jackson's spine.
His heart started racing again. He looked around the decrepit building, gawping at the faces of all the injured wolves. But it was Damon who he really wanted to see, so he looked through the rubble again, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mate, a glimpse that would give him the feeling of safety that he desperately needed—
"Jackson."
Jackson flinched violently as he sharply turned his head and set his eyes on Tokala. The orange wolf stood a few feet away with a confused look on his face like he was waiting for him to reply.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
With a shake of his head, Jackson snapped out of it and nodded. "Y-yeah. Heir Zephyr healed me; he said my body would do the rest."
Tokala sat in front of him. "Wesley told me what happened out there. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help. We could've probably chased it down if I was."
"It's fine, I guess. You had to deal with other cadejo. At least we know it's out there, though."
"Yeah. I'm sure Cyrus or someone from the Nosferatu or Venaticus will deal with it."
Jackson glanced outside. "Is everyone okay? I feel stupid sitting here doing nothing."
"Everyone's fine," Tokala assured him. "The chief and Cyrus are rounding them up, dealing with the last of the cadejo. I think we'll be heading back to the house soon."
With a nod, Jackson set his eyes back on the orange wolf. "Do you think there's gonna be enough room in that house for all the wolves Cyrus just won from Kane?" he asked amusedly.
"Probably. I was looking around in our downtime; the place is massive."
"I kinda wanted to have a look around, too, but ever since that business with Heir Lucian, I've been, well...you know," Jackson admitted.
Tokala nodded. "Mmh. I know different Caeleste have different rules and traditions and such, but from what I've seen of demons so far, I don't think I'd survive very long as one," he said, chuckling.
"I'm just glad I'm with you guys. I don't think I'd make it very long with a demon pack, either," he said with a sigh.
Amos then peeked in through one of the gaps in the wall. "Hey, we're moving out. You all good to move?"
"Everyone's fine," Raphael said as he stopped healing one of the other wolves.
"You good, kid?" Amos asked Jackson.
Jackson nodded, and when he stood up, he stumbled a little, and Tokala helped him balance himself. "Thanks," he said.
The orange wolf smiled and asked him, "Do you need help walking?"
He shook his head. "I'll be okay. Thank you, though."
And then he saw Sebastien. He had so many questions, and he didn't want to wait to ask them, so he hurried past Tokala, out of the decrepit building, and towards the winged hound, who was watching while the wolves slowly gathered in the old town.
"Sebastien," he called as he approached him.
The hound glanced over his shoulder at him.
Jackson slowed his approach, and once he walked around Sebastien and stood in front of him, he noticed the haunted look on his face. Maybe now wasn't the best time to ask...but he was reluctant to wait. "Th-that thing with the antlers. I—"
"I don't wanna talk about it," he dismissed and turned his back on Jackson.
With a determined frown, Jackson moved around to Sebastien's front again. "You knew each other—you knew what that thing was."
Sebastien didn't reply.
"I-is it some kind of variant? Like a prowler?"
He still didn't answer, but his haunted, irritated expression was worsening with every word that Jackson spoke.
"You said you knew how to put it back where it belonged, and then it said something about someone called Caleb, and—"
"Just shut up, okay?" Sebastien snapped angrily. "I said I didn't want to talk about it." He started walking away.
Jackson followed him. He wasn't going to give up yet. Sebastien was hiding something—something important—and he wanted to know what, especially since that antlered monster wanted him. "Why did it call me a vessel? It was trying to take me, and I have the right to know wh—"
"Actually, you don't," the hound interjected as he stopped walking and sharply turned his body to face Jackson. "This has nothing to do with you."
"But it tried to fucking take me; how does this have nothing—"
"Because you're just some kid, okay? Stay in your lane." He turned around and started walking again.
Jackson huffed frustratedly but didn't follow. As aggravated as he felt, he knew that he wasn't going to get answers out of him. Not yet at least. But whatever Sebastien knew, there had to be a reason that he was keeping it to himself, right? He wasn't sure, but if Sebastien didn't give him what he wanted, then he'd ask around. There had to be someone else who knew what that antlered wolf was.
"Jackson!" came Damon's voice.
Relief flooded through Jackson as if storm gates had been opened. He turned to face his incoming mate, and when Damon wrapped his wolfish arms around him, Jackson smiled contently and buried his face in the Alpha's thick, soft fur.
"Are you okay?" his mate asked quietly.
"Yeah," he replied, nuzzling Damon's neck. "Heir Zephyr healed me up. I still feel a little wobbly, but he said I'll be okay."
"Good," Damon said and started caressing Jackson's neck with his muzzle. "What were you chasing Sebastien for?"
"I was trying to get him to tell me what that antlered wolf is, but he's being super defensive."
"I'm sure we'll get answers once we tell Cyrus what we saw."
"I hope so," Jackson mumbled. He then lifted his head from Damon's fur and gazed into his honey-brown eyes. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Fine, but a little surprised, if I'm being honest. The only casualty of this battle was Kane. These guys have obviously been at this kind of thing a long time; makes me feel like I'm putting the Greyblood line to shame."
Jackson frowned. "What? I don't think so. I mean Cyrus is really old, right? And he's connected to the Nosferatu, so of course he's gonna be this good. But that doesn't make you any less of an Alpha, Damon."
Damon smiled weakly and said, "Maybe. I'm just glad you're okay."
"I'm glad you're okay, too," he murmured and nuzzled Damon's neck again. He'd find out what he could about that antlered wolf once they got back to the house. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy his mate's embrace and bask in the relief that came with Cyrus' victory.
The battle was over; Kane was gone, and all that was left to do now was get to the lab and finish what they'd started.
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