07-26-2010, 02:52 PM
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It had once been such a happy place. Now, it was a pile of ruin, already being overrun by growing plants as the earth took back what was always hers to begin with. The wood that remained was charred and black in places, a crumbled memory of a life long ago. Closing his eyes, Dreyrugr could see so clearly the figure of his former mate asleep in the king-sized human bed, the sunlight streaming in through the open window like rays of heaven kissing his angel good morning. He'd messed things up with Alexey long before the fire claimed the house they'd shared, but he would never stop loving her, no matter where she was now.
Maybe it was for the better that the house they'd shared so much love in had crumbled. Bris had told him about the fire that Inferni had set, the one that she had helped to fight with the runt who was now alpha of the pack. He assumed it was that fire that had claimed the house he now stood before in quiet contemplation. It still amazed the male that Conor had managed to overthrow his criminally insane father, but what amazed him further was that he had assumed the responsibility of leading Dahlia when it needed it the most. Drey would have thought the pack would crumble without Haku's control, however sadistic it had been. Moreover, Bris seemed to have immense respect for the boy, and there was a distinct air of unity and calm about Dahlia de Mai that had certainly not existed before. The Stormbringer male was beginning to think he'd vastly underestimated the little runt who'd taken over Lexey's time and heart.
The moon cast an eerie glow about the cemetery and the remains of the house that had overlooked it. It was a warm evening, and mist rose heavily from the ground around Drey's russet feet. His green eyes stared unblinking at the pile of wood and growing weeds, unflinching as he swore the mist took shape about him. Ghosts of those he'd loved and lost danced among the tombstones, laughing and mocking his failure as they twirled. Drey knew they were only figments, projections of the terrible guilt he kept locked away in the deepest recesses of his heart, but still they came to haunt him. Kol, Alexey, Abigail, even Skripi: they all circled him relentlessly, taunting him with their disappointment and cruel words of betrayal. Tiny trickles of blood slipped down the Dahlian's palms as he clenched his fists tighter, his claws piercing his flesh without even a flicker of acknowledgement. He'd failed so many; how in all of creation was he supposed to be the father that Abigail's children, his children, needed?
Table by Requiem
It had once been such a happy place. Now, it was a pile of ruin, already being overrun by growing plants as the earth took back what was always hers to begin with. The wood that remained was charred and black in places, a crumbled memory of a life long ago. Closing his eyes, Dreyrugr could see so clearly the figure of his former mate asleep in the king-sized human bed, the sunlight streaming in through the open window like rays of heaven kissing his angel good morning. He'd messed things up with Alexey long before the fire claimed the house they'd shared, but he would never stop loving her, no matter where she was now.
Maybe it was for the better that the house they'd shared so much love in had crumbled. Bris had told him about the fire that Inferni had set, the one that she had helped to fight with the runt who was now alpha of the pack. He assumed it was that fire that had claimed the house he now stood before in quiet contemplation. It still amazed the male that Conor had managed to overthrow his criminally insane father, but what amazed him further was that he had assumed the responsibility of leading Dahlia when it needed it the most. Drey would have thought the pack would crumble without Haku's control, however sadistic it had been. Moreover, Bris seemed to have immense respect for the boy, and there was a distinct air of unity and calm about Dahlia de Mai that had certainly not existed before. The Stormbringer male was beginning to think he'd vastly underestimated the little runt who'd taken over Lexey's time and heart.
The moon cast an eerie glow about the cemetery and the remains of the house that had overlooked it. It was a warm evening, and mist rose heavily from the ground around Drey's russet feet. His green eyes stared unblinking at the pile of wood and growing weeds, unflinching as he swore the mist took shape about him. Ghosts of those he'd loved and lost danced among the tombstones, laughing and mocking his failure as they twirled. Drey knew they were only figments, projections of the terrible guilt he kept locked away in the deepest recesses of his heart, but still they came to haunt him. Kol, Alexey, Abigail, even Skripi: they all circled him relentlessly, taunting him with their disappointment and cruel words of betrayal. Tiny trickles of blood slipped down the Dahlian's palms as he clenched his fists tighter, his claws piercing his flesh without even a flicker of acknowledgement. He'd failed so many; how in all of creation was he supposed to be the father that Abigail's children, his children, needed?
Table by Requiem
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