100 proof bonding

Caedes acknowledged that the Saxes and the Syndicate were not popular, nor was it their concern to be liked amongst the masses. Alastor understood where they came from; positions of power were often secured by fear, but were more fragile than those secured through respect. He thought of Mirovis, of the empire he'd been born into, and how its monarchs reigned with fear. He thought of how all those wolves were long dead, and likely all who remembered them were dead or dying now too. Caedes explained his family's beliefs of domination and control, how success was measured by how strong and in control you were. "And how strong does your family's position feel here?" he mused aloud, dark eyes looking to Caedes not out of interrogation, but out of philosophical musing. "You're a clever wolf, Caedes. You see the world as it is and don't let ego cloud your judgment. How strong do you believe the Syndicate will grow with the opposition you face?" It was no secret that unpopularity was the gentle way of phrasing the pack's position. Wolves wanted them dead. They saw their alpha as a menace. How long would it be before some spark set off that powder keg—and more importantly, what side would Caedes be on when the explosion went off?

Alastor was pleased to hear Caedes admit that Mariah had introduced him to a new way of thinking—a less one-sided way of perceiving the world. That certainly did sound like his clever little girl! Cae looked a little overwhelmed at the prospect of having to relearn everything he had ever known in his life, and Alastor could certainly empathize with the sentiment. When asked of his beliefs, the dire brute named strength and survival, but also loyalty and protection. Again he named Mariah as his guiding light into the unknown. Alastor couldn't help but smirk at the historical similarities their relationship was taking to his own with Manea. Alastor slowly sipped his whiskey while he let Caedes talk, enjoying the smooth burn of the strong liquor as it ran down his throat to pool in his belly, a delightful sensation against the chill of the winter night.

"I am willing to face whatever challenges come my way to be with her. even if it means dealing with those who do not, will not, cannot understand where i come from or what i have been through." Alastor turned his gaze to meet Caedes' at the same time the other brute looked over at him, those emerald eyes resolute in their conviction. "Even if that challenge is your own family?" Again, Alastor posed a hypothetical to the dark, marred brute at his side, a curious tilt to his head as he gave Caedes the thought problem. "Our family is far from perfect, Caedes, and we do not pretend to be. We accept others for their flaws, we do not judge within limits, and we have certainly committed our fair share of sins—hell, I've put bodies in the ground just for the thrill of it!" Alastor's grin flashed with a bit of wicked mischief. That had all been when he was much younger, of course. Fatherhood and age had tempered the brute out significantly. "We welcomed you into our home because you make Mariah happy and I truly believe she loves you. Would your family, with your beliefs of power, control, and dominance, do the same for her?"

Alastor shifted his weight on one hip to better face Caedes, his dark eyes still inquisitive, but a bit more concerned now. He was showing the Saxe brute exactly how he was feeling—no mask, no facade, no lies. "I have not met your alpha, but I've heard the stories of him. I'm inclined to believe they're true after hearing your account of the Saxe values. So if Sephiran ordered you to use your access to our family to spy for him, would you do so?" A pause, and then Alastor asked in a rougher, lower voice, "If Sephiran forbade your relationship with Mariah and told you to kill her, would you refuse, even if it meant having to kill your own alpha?" These were all hypotheticals, of course. But Caedes was living a double life currently, two existences that were not compatible. If push came to shove, how would Caedes' cards fall on the table? How much was this wolf willing to risk to be with the woman he loved? Would love conquer all, or was Caedes too deeply indoctrinated in the Saxe ideals?

The answer Alastor received to his final hypothetical took the Mendacium brute way off guard. Caedes would want a cure for brokenness. Alastor's expression softened, the shock on his face revealing some of his own cracks underneath that carefully crafted smile he always wore. For a moment, a glimpse of that broken, hurt wolf that had been stuffed away years ago slipped out. Al's eyes dipped, looking at nothing in particular, then at his bottle of whiskey as he took another long draw from the bottle. He'd need plenty of liquor for what he was about to talk about. "Yeah, me too..." Alastor drew a deep breath that he released in a heavy sigh, staring blankly out at the night ocean as he lost himself in memories he didn't wish to recount. But Caedes had bore some of his soul to him, so he would be raw in return. "I was born in a pack far away from here named Mirovis. Outside the alpha's family, nobody mattered. Your life was given in servitude to the royal family. It was a brutal existence of fighting to survive." Alastor paused long enough to swallow more whiskey, more than halfway through his bottle by now and feeling the effects of the alcohol. "My father believed that might made right. Strength and violence were the only things he recognized. Half of the scars on me are marks of his 'love'." A sigh, and Alastor shook his head slowly. "Sometimes I wish he'd have just killed me instead of leaving me damaged like this... Unstable, always on the verge of violence I don't remember and can't control. He was obsessed with making the perfect killing machine in a wolf. I guess in some ways he succeeded..."

"Alastor Mendacium"