This is my kingdom come

Alastor hadn't expected sympathy from Manea. He hadn't expected anything from her, if he was being honest. He knew a law had been broken—the one most paramount to the Mendacium beliefs—and he knew the consequences of breaking that law. It had not been intentional, and while he might not have done anything to actively prevent the failed pregnancy Relm had suffered, he had not taken any steps into ensuring it came to be either. He had not intended to knock up Relm, nor to father bastard children with her. It had simply happened—and just as simply it had been undone. Alastor knew Manea detested Relm, didn't trust her, and this would only serve to further that conviction. But right now Alastor didn't care. Quite frankly, he didn't give a damn. He had sired pups, wanted or unwanted, and he had lost them. But worse, he hadn't been permitted to be a part of their meager existence in this gods damned world. He hadn't been there to comfort Relm as she birthed their children, hadn't been there as they perished, hadn't been given the opportunity to grieve or help bury them. Hell, he didn't even know what was being done with the corpses! What sort of father lost children and didn't even know what became of them?! All because Relm had scorned him, demanded he leave, forced the whore bitch his wife used like a sex toy to drive him away!

Manea hesitated in her reaction, and Alastor was looking away when the rage passed over her visage. He did hear her soft-spoken words saying his name, however he did not turn to face her. Empty black eyes just stared into space, body caught somewhere between tensed in fury and slumped in defeat. His mate's large tiger paws slid over his shoulders and he did not resist her touch pulling him down into an embrace, cradling his thick head into her fluffy chest. Alastor let the familiar comfort and warmth of Manea surround him, blank eyes starting to mist over while she caressed the back of his head. Manea offered him sympathy, but Alastor gave no response. Sympathy did nothing for him. It was nothing against Manea, but the entire concept was so ludicrous to him. Why be sorry for an outcome she would have wanted anyway? Alastor wasn't sorry for himself. He deserved this. Manea had nothing to feel sorry for either.

After a beat, Manea asked why he was here instead of with Relm. A hard, broken laugh left Alastor, his body jerking with the reaction as the demented grin of the old Alastor slowly crept its way over his muzzle. Yes, why wasn't he with Relm indeed? The single laugh soon had a twin, and then another, and then Alastor was fully laughing like a madman. The pain in his voice cut through the sound that normally would have been a positive thing. This was the laugh of a damaged mind once more exposed to the trauma that had shattered it in the first place. "She doesn't want to see me," he replied with an incredulous inflection, as if he couldn't believe his own words. "She demanded I leave and then had your golden bitch kick me out and not let me back in." Alastor would have his revenge against Irilyth eventually. The bitch had it coming to her for the mistake she'd made. "They wouldn't let me be there for them. They wouldn't let me see them. I didn't get to mourn them or bury them or even know how many there were. How many sons or daughters. I got driven off like a cur." Alastor laughed and laughed, the tears spilling from black eyes to cut down ebony cheeks and splatter against the stone floor. All he had ever wanted in his life was to be the kind of father his own sire had failed to be. Thanks to Relm and Irilyth, he had been denied that chance.

"Alastor Mendacium"