Why Mess Up A Good Thing

Together the two broken souls achieved a nirvana that left Alastor gasping for breath and trembling from head to toe. As she had done for the entirety of their mating, Relm kept him riding out his high until the very last possible moment, bringing him a mind-numbing pleasure while they basked in their ecstasy together as one. As that high came down into the blissful and floaty aftermath, Alastor happily received Relm's body into his arms and across his own, both of them shifting to lie on their sides with Relm sandwiched between his bulky form and the den wall. Massive black paws roamed slowly up and down her back in soothing circuits, tracing over where his claws had found purchase in her flesh, really just savoring the warmth of her against him and the feel of her fur between his paws. The last time they'd been intimate together, both of them had done the deed and then decoupled themselves to go about the night. Not this time. Not unless Relm wanted to separate first. This time, Alastor watched Relm bask in the afterglow of the euphoria they'd created together. It was beautiful. It brought the rare, genuine smile to the dire brute's lips. He was all in on this 100%.

Relm's head lifted and her argent gaze briefly flashed over his obsidian eyes, but that was all it took for Alastor to see the struggle behind them. He made a comical expression of raising a brow silently, asking without words what was going on in her mind. Relm showed just how well she could read his verbal cues again by explaining that she had something she wanted to tell him, but didn't want to be weird about it. Alastor simply smirked and replied, "We're both already weird, Relm." It was why they meshed together, he believed. The more Relm built up this preamble to her secret, the more intrigued Alastor became. She looked away again, and Alastor didn't try to force her to look back. She could do whatever she needed to be comfortable, and he would wait for her, the ever patient devil he was. Eventually, Relm did explain: her mother, Agria, was raped and killed by Kefka. She had been the product of rape. But more than that, Agria was her biological grandmother as well—Kefka's mother was her mother as well. Kefka had raped his own mother in an act of incest to produce Relm. It was only then that Alastor began to fathom the severity of what he had discovered that day in the berry grove, with Kefka mounting and fucking his own daughter. He had commit incestuous rape before, and he had clearly intended to do it again with Relm until Alastor put a permanent hiatus on his hillbilly inbred plans.

Alastor's brow had furrowed and his expression hardened as Relm explained her start to life, but it wasn't out of disgust or revulsion. It was that same violent, ferocious protectiveness he felt for the younger woman that had driven him to massacring her shitbag motherfucking father. Suddenly Kefka's possessiveness over Relm and her fear of her father made sense. Kefka had likely had the idea to take Relm as his mate when she came of age to make more fucked up inbred babies with her. Suddenly Alastor wished Kefka was alive, just so he could have the pleasure of killing him all over again. Alastor squeezed Relm a little bit tighter in his arms, a rumble of a growl vibrating in his chest out of instinctive reflex. Now it was his turn to share his upbringing, and where they were the same and where they differed. "I was the product of rape, though mine was less familial. My father simply decided he needed pups to keep up the appearance of being a well-adjusted family, and to earn him more respect and prominence in our pack. My siblings and I were accessories to his narcissism... at least until he decided he didn't need all of us." Now it was Alastor's turn to look away from Relm, dark eyes clouding with hate and pain. "He beat and brutalized my brothers and I until I was the last male standing. Then he raped my sisters until they bled to death. Any time I'd try to interfere, he'd maul me worse. When I was the last one, he let me live, just for appearances' sake." A sick, demented smile slowly twisted its way across Alastor's lips as he recounted the ending to his story. "I killed the fucker for what he did. Mother abandoned me after that, probably because she never loved any of us. The children she never wanted..." When he finished speaking, Alastor slowly lowered his eyes to seek out Relm's once more. She was one of only three wolves who knew the story of his life and how his mind had been broken into the demented fragments it was in now, how he had become the demon everyone saw him as today. He sought her response, her reaction. Would she pity him? Admire him? Fear him? Where would she fall on the gamut of reactions to who the dark wolf truly was?

"Alastor Mendacium"