The Quadra
St. Valentine wrote:
"Aleksei?" Isabella called softly, searching for him when she turned to see if he was following. "Aleksei? Where are you?"
Her voice was so small and shaken it sounded akin to a child calling for its mother. Her eyes became glossy when she realized that he had long disappeared, watching as Dean returned without him and joined them as they made their way toward the forest where Isabella's house had once been. Selene nudged her forward, urging her not to waste time looking for the pureblood that had vanished for a good reason that he obviously did not wish for the Italian girl to know. She continued on reluctantly, looking over her shoulder in search of him repeatedly until they left the cemetery.
When they reached the forest, Isabella was horrified at the carnage strewn about the foliage. The earth had been torn apart in several places; some trees had been snapped in half, and there was blood and fur all over the place. They reached the tent, and she could see the familiar silhouette of Lyra's bouncy hair, as well as Julian resting beside her. Instinctively, she ran toward the campsite, barely able to contain herself.
"Lyra?!" she cried out, on the brink of hysteria. "Are you in there??"
She whipped open the tent to find Julian beneath the sleeping bag, naked and bruised, and Lyra with her arms curled around her knees next to him. Their source of energy and protein were chocolate bars and sugary energy drinks, marshmallows and graham crackers- Isabella's horror intensified. Immediately, she dove into the tent and embraced her friend, relieved beyond measure to find that the girl had not been harmed.
"Oh my god, Lyra, I thought you had been hurt or killed! What on earth are you doing in a tent?!"
Julian stirred beside them, trying his best to sit up on his elbows and acknowledge the Italian girl that had just knocked his bandaged and injured foot when she leapt into the little tent. His grey eyes watched the pair interact, though he was biting down on his lip to keep from howling with the pain that surged the span of his limb. At that same moment, Lukas appeared with a bundle of Julian's clothes, which he put on before he was helped to stand and exit the tent.
"The Salvatore boy has arrived," Lukas informed his alpha, who was struggling to stand upright as he shifted his weight onto a tree for support. "He wishes to speak with the rogue alone. We figure the hunter will do better to get some information out of him."
"Does he know?" Julian asked.
"Yes."
"Take me to him."
Bound at his post, Botolf slumped over, staring viciously at the ground with the one eye that hadn't been swollen shut. Blood oozed out of his wounds and dripped from his broken nose and busted lip. Sweat had slicked his skin and dirt was caked on it, turning gradually into mud, while his hair had been cut off and only a few patches had remained. He didn't look up when the hybrid hunter arrived, though a smirk did curl over his split lip, and a weak, pained laugh erupted from his throat as Dean cocked his weapon.
"Go ahead and shoot me, hybrid," Botolf spat. "I will take the secrets of my alpha to the grave, and you will only be making it easier."
His one good eye, the color of a ring of purified brass, feral and inhumane, lazily lingered up to meet Dean's furious gaze. The rogue's smirk widened, revealing several missing teeth, which the other wolves had crushed when trying to get him to talk. Bloody saliva dripped from the side of his mouth, adding to his barbaric visage, then he cackled wildly.
"You will never see them coming."