The rage obscured her sense and destroyed her reason and it was not her own children she was attacking but strangers intent on hurting her unborns. So she snarled and lunged, only the desire to protect rising within her, she was overwhelmed and knocked aside, her outstretched paw catching the tan and black one barely on the cheek. She yelped as she hit the wall, immediately curling in upon herself to protect her fragile stomach. But the strangers quickly retreated, with the darker one cursing and hissing like a scared cat. For a single moment triumph rose within her eyes at chasing them away as she stared challengingly at the black male who looked so horrified.
Then her world tipped and distorted and sanity returned to her. Recognition flooded back along with horror and a piercing sharp pain in her chest. What had she done. Now she saw not the face of a stranger but her mate, and remembered the eyes of not attackers but of her own children. With a single heart wrenching gasp of realization Jace turned and fled deeper into the house, shutting herself away in their bedroom. She leaned against the wooden door and tried to still her beating heart and heavy breaths, but no peace came to her. She was a monster, she had done what she had sworn to never do, an oath made her to own grandmother and her mother before her and even her mother then, passed down through the decades. Vibrant red stained her fur, the front of her body speckled with her son's blood. What she had done was unforgivable.
She was no better than Lucifer, or Argul or any of the other festering receptacles of evil that stalked the night and haunted the shadows. A keening whine came from her as she rocked herself back and forth. She lumbered forwards and pulled shut the window coverings, unable to stand the glare of the rising moon, the all seeing eye that stared down at her, judging her and finding her guilty. The excitement and motion served to hasten her labor from its half frozen state. But without her family besides her, watching, caring, she had not the strength of mind to resist her pain, to keep silent her suffering.
The first of many cascading torrents rocked her small form, and she let loose a feral scream from her maw. It was a desolate sorrow filled sound, resounding with grief and shame. Before the night was through and the birthing was complete she would throw many such tributes of noise towards the hidden sky, seeking for some way clear of the darkness, some path back towards the light.
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