AN: Firstly, huge thanks to everyone that has started reading this recently and to those of you that have been around since the first chapter. You guys seriously make my day
More plot development, yay!
Enjoy~
Reclining on his perch, Starrk rested his chin in one of his hands and yawned. He watched his highest ranking underlings bicker and snip at each other in agitation and nervousness; acting like pups as they argued amongst themselves.
Tension was high, members were butting heads and causing problems in the ranks. More of the lower members were going rogue. More strays were slinking about. Some of the strays were banding together with the rogue members, gaining strength in numbers and attacking the surrounding villages. Some were even going as far as changing some of their human prey into wolves, a taboo forbidden for good reasons.
Most humans that were turned into werewolves gained an unquenchable hunger and blood lust that eventually drove them mad. More often than not, they stumbled into the wrong section of forest and entered Pantera territory, where the feline undoubtedly took care of them. Very few learned to cope with the new and heightened instinctual drives. Only the highest ranking wolves were allowed to select humans to turn because they were able to sense the necessary qualities a human needed to survive.
Rival bands of strays along with their newly changed humans were beginning to shed werewolf blood, some of the larger groups even daring to threaten Pack territory. Conflicts were increasing, usually resulting in the rogues' deaths, but killing ones own always left a bitter taste in the mouth. Starrk himself had killed numerous wolves he had once considered part of his Pack.
No one knew what Grimmjow was up to. The mysterious werepanther's name alone was usually enough to cause a commotion under normal circumstances. Now he was making the Pack members even more nervous by befriending the powerful human Caster and Undead, and his words to Starrk certainly did nothing to put their fears at ease.
Starrk was convinced the feline had meant nothing by his comment; that he was only acting his old mocking self, but many members didn't agree. They were used to the elusive, almost timid cat that stayed hidden in his territory. Most of the members didn't remember the Grimmjow that existed before the cat had ran into trouble, and it seemed Grimmjow was finally beginning to recover from his binding so long ago.
A decent portion of the higher ups wanted cat blood. Still others were undecided, leaning toward eliminating the feline once and for all so they wouldn't have to deal with him any longer. Not that the task would be as easy as they made it out to be.
Starrk had been able feel, as well as see the changes that had come over La Pantera in their short conversation. He was regaining his strength, possibly regaining some of the power he had once held, though the Alpha wasn't sure the werecat even knew it yet. It seemed just being around a couple of humans was enough to effect the deidad.
The leader of Los Lobos feared the extra stress during already rough times would rip the Pack in half. Rifts were already beginning to form. The evidence of said cracks were apparent from where he sat, watching the wolves gathered around him. More than once, Starrk had almost needed to intervene in an argument turned fight.
All the while, Nnoitra crouched at his side, carefully watching the other wolves with a trained eye. Much like natural wolves, the werewolf pack worked similar to a hierarchy and if one of the lower members felt the leader wasn't doing his job or was too weak to hold the mantle any longer, it would attempt to dethrone the Alpha.
Both Nnoitra and Starrk had heard the whispered rumors. The leader's inactivity with the feline menace wasn't going over well. The Pack wanted to know what was going on, they wanted answers and they wanted to know why Starrk had been so lenient with the werecat for so long.
It was only a matter of time before someone stepped out of line or went after the panther themselves. Starrk was unsure how much longer he would be able to keep his Pack in check.
He stood from his perch with a sigh, his stormy eyes scanning the rowdy crowd. Nnoitra followed his lead, hopping from the raised dais to follow behind Starrk and towering above the majority of the beasts around them. Both were cautious, though they walked with ease and let off an air of calm confidence. It wouldn't do for the leader to show that he was nervous. Showing weakness now could be all the push the Pack needed to head toward disaster.
The members parted down the middle, forming walls of living bodies to either side and making way for their Alpha and his second to leave the room. Most showed the respect accorded to the leader, but the evidence of upset glinted from more than one set of canine eyes.
Midway through the space, a stocky figure stood to block their path and refused to bow down.
Dark eyes flashed with challenge and scared lips curled to bare yellowed fangs. The wolf's coat was more grey than brown with age. He was among the oldest of the still living werewolves, yet still very much a capable fighter. The challenger's stature was shorter and bulkier than the majority of the Originals, but it was all muscle and the older wolf stood his ground on steady feet as he stared Starrk in the eye.
Starrk sighed again, unsurprised that this older male would be his challenger. He and this wolf had disagreed on nearly every issue from the moment Starrk had come into power. Nor was he surprised that the old, scared male would challenge him so soon. This was a beast who knew how to take advantage of situations, and that's what he was trying to do now.
The Alpha laid his ears back and continued to meet the older male's stare, letting his body language accept the challenge. To back down would be to lose his standing as Pack leader, possibly even lose his life.
The gathered members parted further, the narrow path widening into a circular open area, giving the combatants room to maneuver and fight. Murmurs rose up. Wolves voiced cheers and yipped in anticipation. Fights among leaders were a rarity and a treat to watch. No one had dared challenge Starrk's rein in decades and some were wandering if it was a mistake to keep him on the throne for so long.
A snarl, the most menacing and threatening sound anyone could remember hearing from the current Alpha, silenced the room. Starrk entered a battle ready crouch, his muscled body tense and ready as he let his opponent have the first strike. If they wanted a show, he would give them one none would soon forget.
The older wolf pounced as Starrk lowered his body. The beast's speed was deceptive and the Alpha knew his strength would be as well. He rolled his body around to the left, dodging the main attack and only receiving a couple shallow gashes along his forearm from the wolf's claws.
Ignoring the minor wound and completing his evasive maneuver, a simmering fury lit Starrk's eyes and he launched himself at the creature's exposed back with a vicious anger the usually calm Alpha rarely showed. The challenging wolf barely had time to turn around and grapple with the Alpha. They toppled to the hard packed, earthen floor; a mass of sharp fangs and tearing claws.
The onlookers scrambled out of the way, yet were unwilling to leave the room and miss the fight, as the two combatants tumbled and rolled about amidst snarling growls and yelping.
There was no finesse, only a show of brute force; a race to see who's teeth could inflict more damage as Starrk and the older male continued tearing into each other with wild abandon. They slammed into a wall, dust falling from the earthen surface to coat their fur lightly and brake their holds on one another.
Starrk took the opportunity presented to him as the other male staggered to his feet, slightly dazed by the force with which he had hit the wall.
The younger wolf wrapped one hand around the elder's throat, the other reaching to grab at the wolf's flailing arms. He snapped his jaws shut mercilessly over the grey muzzle of the challenger, snarling and growling his fury.
With a vicious shake of his head, Starrk drove his opponent to the ground, his teeth and claws drawing blood where he latched on and refused to let go.
The older male continued to struggle, snarling and snapping his jaws at the wolf above him. The pressure around his muzzle and neck increased to an almost crippling pressure at nearly the same time and he was quickly left gasping for air while a pained whimper crawled from his obstructed throat. After a moment, he lay still, relaxing his quivering muscles and averting his dark eyes from the victorious Alpha.
Starrk snarled vehemently as the animal relaxed, an almost cruel glint in his usually placid grey eyes. He shook his head again, fangs tearing into the older male's snout and adding to the scars he already bore. Slowly, he released his hold and rose from his opponent, straightening and never letting his eyes leave the wolf's form.
The defeated wolf cowered, tucking it's tail between it's legs in submission as it obediently kept it's eyes aimed at the floor. Blood trickled down it's muzzle to drip on the floor and mix with the dirt.
Starrk spun to the rest of the Originals that crowded around behind he and the defeated wolf; ears pinned back and hackles raised. He bared his teeth in a savage snarl and dared any other insubordinate member to challenge his rein as Pack leader.
Slowly, each and every werewolf in the room lowered their eyes to the floor and acknowledged Starrk as Alpha.
••••••
Padding through the forest, Grimmjow enjoyed the solitude and silence of the peaceful night. He took a deep breath, savoring the earthy scent of the dirt and foliage around him. His sharp, nearly glowing blue eyes searched the shadowed trees around him and his ears were perked, listening to the hushed sounds that buzzed through the trees.
His body and senses may have been alert, but they were running on autopilot; a simple habit formed of instinct and experience. His mind wandered far and wide as he roamed his territory with no particular goal or destination.
The human men he had spent the past few days with had offered him a place in their home. Ichigo and Shiro had left their doors open to him, promising he would always have a room to stay in, no matter his decision. He had been delighted. The werecat found that he wanted nothing more than to stay and protect the human men he had befriended; to get to know them better, to observe them more, be with them more.
He had of course accepted their offer and the rest of the evening had consisted of exploring the large building the Caster and his pale copy called home and talking to the humans. He had learned quite a bit about the two humans. Very little of the conversations had been about their past, but he had gathered that theirs' was a rather sad story. Neither Shiro nor Ichigo had seemed comfortable with indulging his curiosity about some of their more personal issues, though. So he hadn't pushed it and they enjoyed a calm evening in the sitting room.
After the sun had gone down, the moon high in the midnight sky, the Caster had curled up in his brother's lap and fallen asleep. Shortly after, Grimmjow's wild instincts had forced him to uncurl himself from his own spot in a different chair. He had left the room and wandered the extensive halls for a while, hoping to quell his restlessness, but it had done little to dampen the relentless need for movement.
He had gone back down the stairs, headed for the front door. Pausing in the door way to the occupied sitting room, he hadn't needed to say a word. The pale human had looked at him for a few moments, his golden orbs glittering in the flickering fire light, then he nodded his head slightly and went back to gently stroking Ichi's hair. Shiro had redirecting his inverted gaze back to the wall in front of him, silently excepting Grimmjow's need and whatever decision he made.
Grimmjow had slipped out the door without a sound hours ago and had been ambling about his territory, lost in thought, ever since. He wanted to go back and curl up with the humans. He wanted to fall asleep by their sides again, but his restless nature prevented his return. And so, for now at least, he roamed wherever his instincts and feet took him.
The werepanther was pulled from his musings as his pads landed on hard packed, smooth stones. Blinking from his reverie, a slight smirk tugged at the feline's lips as he cast his vivid eyes around the decrepit ruins of a once grand temple.
He stepped through what was left of an elaborately arched door way, stepping over a few fallen blocks of stone as he did so. It had been years since he had visited the temple that had been built in his honor and blessed in his name.
Half of the front wall, to the left of the door way he had just entered, had collapsed. Sections of the once high arching and painted ceiling had crumbled, the gaps showing the stars over head. A thin blanket of moss covered most of the stone edifices and vines grew to wind around once elaborately decorated support columns.
Grimmjow ran his finger tips over one of the stone columns, feeling the intricate carvings below the moss, as he passed it by. He didn't need to see the elaborate etchings to know what they depicted. He could still remember each and every one of them like it had only been a few days since his last visit.
His fingertips sank into deep, jagged gashes among the moss. Wincing at memories of how the deep claw marks had come to mar the once perfect stone, Grimmjow retracted his hand and pushed his thoughts away. Taking his time, the werepanther carefully and slowly picked his way through the fallen rubble toward the only untouched structure in the abandoned temple.
Having been sealed and enchanted by a Caster masterful in his craft and loyal in his worship, the stone would never crumble, never grow brittle or be tarnished by the ravages of time. It would forever remain as pristine in it's brutal beauty and would still stand after the original occupant was long gone.
The werepanther mounted the steep tiers of the raised dais and took a seat upon his throne. He ran his hands over the smooth, unblemished stone of the arm rests and leaned back. The pristine white color mocked the blood that had been spilt in his name; enough blood to fill this place of worship and more. The elaborate chair felt the same as it always had; just as familiar as when he had resided here so long ago.
Molded into the illusion of bone, the mighty throne had been fashioned to reflect the wild, violent nature of the god that it had been intended for. The arm rests had been carved to resemble the long leg bones of a now extinct predatory beast; the legs of his throne resembled stacked neck and back vertebrae from the same creature. The back, sculpted to look like a twisted ribcage, was tall. It ended in a sharp, twisting, tapering point at the top that nearly reached the ceiling and loomed over all that would bow before La Pantera.
The once mighty deidad rested his elbow on the arm of his throne and placed his chin in his hand. His tail fell through a gap in between the rib structure at his back and flicked about lazily below him as his sharp, other worldly eyes took on a far away look.
••••••
Dainty hands tugged at the back of his shirt and Renji turned around to look down at the raven haired woman with a small smile on his face. As soon as he saw her, he wished he hadn't looked, he could already tell she wanted something and he wasn't going to be able to refuse the look on her pretty face.
Raising a single tattooed brow, he looked down at her and didn't bother asking while he did his best to harden his resolve.
"Are you really planning to visit Ichi more often?" Rukia asked, doing her best to keep her voice neutral and innocent.
"I would like to, why?" The red asked, suspicion showing through in his voice. There was no way he was going to let her talk him out of seeing the twins more often. He had enjoyed the short day of his last visit and he missed his friends.
Shiro and Ichigo seemed to enjoy his company as well, those two didn't have many friends any more and he was sure they could use a visit every once in a while.
Rukia sighed and looked up at the taller man. "It's dangerous out there..." She said, making her voice small and unassuming. "Will you at least considering getting a gun? What if the werewolves try to attack again?"
Renji let his features soften as he realized she was only worried about him. Giving her a small hug, he smiled a little.
"I'll think about it. There's still a shop around here that sells silver slugs I think" He said, watching as her expression started to look a little happier.
"You'll only think about it?" The petite woman asked. "That monster would have killed you if..." Her voice trailed off and a slight sneering expression crossed her features before she could stop it. "If it wouldn't have helped."
"I know you don't like him, but Ichigo and Shiro's new friend doesn't really seem that bad, Rukia."
"If you say so." She huffed quietly. "Either way, you still need to be able to protect yourself while you're on your way."
The red head nodded slightly, his wild mane catching the dieing sun light that streamed through the window. He had to admit, he had no desire to run across another werewolf, especially without a way to protect himself. Maybe a gun wouldn't be such a bad idea.
While he was getting one for himself, he would pick up one for Rukia also, so that she would have one at home with her incase she should need to come after him for some reason. He didn't want her leaving the house unprepared, especially with the colder season approaching. Attacks on surrounding villages had been increasing, it couldn't hurt to be prepared. Who knew, she may end up needing a weapon while she was at home by herself. He certainly hoped not, but one could never be too careful under circumstances such as these.
Rukia hid her smirk as she watched cinnamon colored eyes swirl with thought. She knew Renji all too well. He was inherently protective and selfless by nature, he would ultimately turn her little suggestion from protecting himself to protecting her.
As he spoke his ideas, the raven haired woman put on an alarmed expression and schooled her features so he would be none the wiser.
"Maybe we should get you one as well" Renji suggested, looking down into wide violet eyes. "Just so you wont have to worry while I'm gone, so if anything should happen, you would be prepared." He quickly added when she started to look a little uneasy and worried.
"Do you really think I would need one?" Rukia wrapped her arm's around his middle while she spoke, hiding the smirk still trying to take over her features against his shirt.
"I hope not, but it can't hurt" Renji hugged her back.
By the end of the day, they were locking their new weapons away in a cupboard. Renji had bought two hand guns and a case each of silver shells from a shop Shirosaki had told him about a while back, before the albino had started making his own slugs. The place still sold silver even though it was expensive and more difficult to make than the typical lead.
Renji locked and barred the front door as he and Rukia headed off to bed, already feeling more at ease knowing that they had something that would be able to hurt a werewolf should they need it.
••••••
Shiro listened to the feline quietly close the door behind himself as he tenderly ran his milky fingers through soft, orange locks.
King slept curled on his lap with his head resting on Shiro's toned chest. The albino listened to, as well as felt the steady inhale and exhale of Ichigo's breaths. He stared absently at the fire in the hearth, fingers gently combing through King's hair as he thought about the events that had transpired that evening.
He and King had discussed the various possible outcomes of offering their feline guest a more permanent stay. They knew it was in the cat's nature to roam, to live in the forest; he was a wild, instinctual creature, after all. They knew he may not want to stay, or may not be able to stay permanently for one reason or another. But they had both wanted to make the offer anyway.
A few mere weeks ago, Shiro had been calling the man a monster; a dangerous beast he had warned King to stay away from. He would have rather shot and killed the creature than talked to it. In fact, he had shot the panther. Now, the pale twin didn't like listening to him leave and wandering if he would be back.
The look in the werecat's blue eyes had been haunting when he had paused in the door way. Shiro wondered if the man even knew how lost he had looked.
Shirosaki bent down slightly and kissed the sleeping man in his arms. Gently, the near-albino repositioned his hold, cradling Ichigo close. He slowly stood, careful to not jostle his copy too much.
Ichigo shifted and groaned quietly, burying his face in Shiro's neck as he slept.
Shiro froze and waited for the man to fall still again before he continued moving and left the room, carrying Ichigo toward their bedroom on the second floor. He carefully ascended the spiral stairs and tread down the hallway. Turning sideways, Shiro carried his King through the door way to their room and padded to the side of the bed.
Settling the orange haired man down on the mattress, Shiro was in the process of pulling the covers over him when the Caster pried open sleepy, brown eyes.
Blowing a sigh, the albino hung his head for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing orange strands from Ichigo's face.
"S'ok, King, go back ta sleep" He said softly.
"mmm...are you going to bed too?" Ichigo asked tiredly, peeking up at Shiro for a moment before closing his eyes again.
"Not yet, soon though" Shiro answered, pulling the navy blankets of their shared bedspread up around Ichigo's shoulders.
The orange head pried his heavy lids open again to look up at his beloved twin. "Why not? It's late"
"yeah, I know..." Shiro hesitated in telling him why he wasn't going to bed quite yet.
As if sensing the reason for Shiro's hesitation, Ichigo sat up slightly, a light frown creasing his brows. "Where's Grimmjow? Did he already go up to his room?"
The pale man closed his gold on black eyes for a moment and sighed, knowing that Ichigo would worry about the feline once Shiro told him the cat was gone.
"Uhh, nah. He went out fer a bit" He said, hoping to ease the still sleepy man enough for him to go back to sleep.
"Is he ok?" Ichigo asked, sitting up further and pulling the blankets away. He could see that his brother was hiding something and that made him worry.
Shiro sighed again and leaned his head on King's shoulder. He shrugged a little. "Don't really know. He's been gone a while now" The pale man answered honestly. There was no point in trying to lie to Ichigo, especially now that he was awake. "I was ganna go look for him and make sure"
"By yourself? The forest is dangerous and it's dark out, you should have just woke me up" Ichigo scolded, but there was no real anger in his voice. He could never be angry at Shiro.
Together, the twins got up and readied themselves to go looking for the cat. They knew it might be a difficult task to track him, it was dark out and they both had seen how easily the feline could disappear into the forest when he didn't want to be found. But as they crossed the yard and began searching the forest edge, it became evident that Grimmjow hadn't tried to hide his movements from them. The path he had taken was clearly laid out before them and easy enough for an experienced hunter to follow.
Shiro lead the way, one gun drawn and held at the ready before him. Ichigo followed closely behind him, keeping his senses opened and alert to the darkened forest. They hadn't heard or seen any signs of werewolves and they both doubted there would be any around with Grimmjow prowling about, but it usually paid off to be careful.
The trail curved about, never really making a bee line in any direction for too long, almost as if the werepanther had been lost or unsure of where to go. Both options seemed unlikely, seeing as they were fairly certain they were still in Pantera territory.
The albino was beginning to get frustrated and annoyed, with a little worry mixed in, as he continued to follow the unpredictable path. Something about the wandering trail didn't seem right, but it had to be the werepanther's. The markings and prints they found were too small and light to be from a member of the larger werewolf species.
Finally, after what seemed like much longer than it probably really was, Shiro froze in his tracks. The surrounding area held the tense, hushed silence the pale man hated so much, but the longer he was around the werecat, the more he was getting used to it and what it meant. It followed Grimmjow everywhere he went and so he knew that cat had to be near by.
Ichigo nearly bumped into his twin at the sudden halt. Giving his brother a frown, he edged around to Shiro's side to see what he had found.
The werecat's trail lead to an over grown clearing, the grasses and underbrush growing thick in what had once been a well manicured and cared for space. A path of broken cobble lead to the main entrance of a dilapidated structure. Six enormous feline-like statues, three on either side, lined the path like sentries; their features weathered away by time and several of them nearly unrecognizable in their state of collapse.
Ichigo stepped around his twin, edging onto the path with wide eyes as he took in the sight before them.
In the center of the clearing stood the ruins of a grand temple. The structure was old and ravaged by time and the elements, but no less great. What was left of the vaulted ceiling reached the very top of the tallest trees. Six more elaborately carved statues stood at the front of the entrance like guardians of an important being. Their arms were raised above their heads, palms flat to the sky to hold the stone awning that had once created a sheltered over hang across the front. Wrapped in chains as if in servitude and baring battle scars, these statues had almost canine features.
Ichigo reached behind him and grabbed Shiro's hand, pulling his pale copy along. They slowly made their way along the disheveled cobble path to the front of the temple. Shiro pushed King behind him protectively, drawing his gun again, and carefully stepped around the door way to press his back along the still standing wall at the right. He scanned the area, looking for any signs of danger, but his eyes were instantly drawn to the large, white throne sitting in the center of the back wall, and the lone occupant that sat upon it.
The Caster followed behind his twin, his eyes immediately drawn to Grimmjow as well.
Vibrant, blue eyes shone and nearly glowed in the dark of the temple, but they held a far away, almost lost look. The cat sat upon his throne, chin in one taloned hand, tail lazily flicking back and forth. He was so lost in his pensive thoughts that the feline gave no indication that he knew he had company as he watched what only he could see.
Something about the sight drew the human's toward the cat. An almost unnatural tug pulled them forward with the need to reassure the creature they had come to care for over such a short period of time. The heavy mood and emotions permeating the very air in the old building were so unusual of the feline and the twins found themselves standing only a few meters away from the mighty throne, both trying to decide what to do as the cat still didn't react to their presence.
Feeling the need to break the tense silence and draw the cat from his apparently dark thoughts, Ichigo spoke up.
"Do...do you miss...?" The question hung in the air, loud in the thick silence as blue eyes snapped to his form.
The cat didn't move, but his vivd, cold eyes pinned Ichigo to his spot and rendered him immobile. The fury and threat that had initially swirled in deep azure melted away as recognition and acceptance took it's place.
Blue eyes looked from the Caster to his pale copy before Grimmjow sighed quietly and curled his back legs underneath of him where he perched on his abandoned throne. His slim black tail ceased it's swaying and came to rest, curled around him where he sat, in an almost shielding manner as it lay across his feet.
The repositioning of the cat's tail had been an unconscious one, born of the feline feeling vulnerable, and Ichigo found that it pained him to see Grimmjow looking so unlike his usual self; so down and upset. The feline seemed drawn in on himself, consumed by whatever thoughts plagued him.
The cat finally spoke in answer to Ichigo's unfinished question. His deep voice caressed the air and resounded about the temple like the finest of silks, almost as if the building it's self had missed it as he softly spoke.
"No, not really" He said, to the surprise of the humans. "I enjoyed my rein as a deidad, but I don't miss the attention. Don't miss greedy humans trying to... I don't miss having to watch my followers struggle to survive in hard times, or watch them die in my name..." His voice trailed off as a particular memory presented it's self.
The memory of a great War, a battle long lost on human memory, played in his mind. The battle that had destroyed his temple, killed his followers and nearly ended him as well. The memory of the sorrow and regret that filled stormy grey eyes as they looked down at him filled his vision. He could see that the creature hovering above him was speaking, but the words were lost on him. He had been spared and a silent understanding had been born while he hissed and bared fangs at the one that had been his hated enemy for so long.
Not daring to brake the silence, neither Ichigo nor Shiro spoke as the werecat relived his past. After a few moments, his voice floated to them, a rough, brittle edge to it.
"I buried all the bodies I could find...each in their own grave..." Grimmjow told them. He knew they probably didn't know what he was talking about, but he didn't care at that point. The need to tell someone forced him to give words to what he had never told another living being. Very few knew of how his rein had ended, or how devastating it had been.
He had personally sought out the body of every one of his fallen worshippers and buried them in human tradition. Refusing to even address his own injuries, he had lost track of how long had passed before he found and buried all the fallen humans; men, women and children that had died in his name. It may have been days, it may have been months. It didn't matter. All that mattered to him was that he honor his human followers, the way they had honored him, one last time. For what was a deidad without his followers?
His forest, his territory, was built on the fallen faith of his dead followers. Their bodies had nourished the trees that found life after the battle had died away and the blood had soaked into the earth.
"and then I drug myself here..." He would have been happy to die, would have welcomed the end to his pain and memories. With his self imposed task done, he had hoped to succumb to his wounds at last and join his fallen humans as he lay alone, curled on his throne in his ruined temple. But he hadn't. Instead, a powerful and faithless human had found him and bound him when he had been at his weakest.
The uneasy memories forced a shiver down his spine and he curled his lip to bare curved fangs. An undeniable rage welled up in him and the werepanther launched from his throne.
The faithless man had healed Grimmjow's battle wounds, only to force him into servitude; to use him, to use his strength and his power. The human had stripped his free will away and pitted him against the man's own enemies in an attempt to become like the god he had helped destroy.
Grimmjow pinned the human with his gaze alone, some part of him not willing to harm this Caster even in his rage and memory fogged state. He was only half aware of what was going on around him as he continued to relive his hated memories. The safety of a gun clicked, but he hardly noticed.
The orange haired man stared at the cat, lips parted in shock and eyes wide with a hint of primal fear swirling in their depths. Grimmjow had moved too fast for either of the men to register, and he now stood mere inches away from Ichigo where he had his back pressed to one of the moss covered columns.
The snarl of vicious teeth only an inch from his face weakened his knees, but he forced himself to stay calm and look the werepanther in the eye. In the back of his mind, Ichigo knew the cat wouldn't harm him. It was obvious Grimmjow was dealing with something very personal and very strong at the moment and he somehow knew that what the cat said next would decide weather the man came home with them or stayed here to disappear from memory again.
"It will never happen again." The cat snarled at him, blue eyes boring holes through the Caster. "I will never be bound again..." His voice was quieter this time, the rage in his eyes dissipating, giving way to an immense dread as his body began to tremble almost imperceptibly.
Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He couldn't work words past the lump in his throat as he was suddenly faced with the reason Grimmjow had been so enraged. The werepanther was afraid.
As a Caster, Ichigo understood what it meant for an entity to be bound to someone else's will. He had been born with the ability, and had heard what it could do to the bound creature. It had destroyed the most mighty beings; turning them into mindless monsters, meant only to do what their master said. The worst part about the whole thing was that the bound creature could still understand what was happening to it, but it couldn't refuse. It could still feel and think and hurt while it's will and body were commanded by someone else.
"never..." he whispered and threw his arms around the werepanther's thick neck. The cat froze under his grip, but didn't pull away and Ichigo spoke again. "I would never do that to you..."
Finally, Grimmjow relaxed under his embrace and nodded.
"I know" he said quietly. He relinquished his resurrection and returned the human's comforting hug as a man; not a monster, nor creature, not a god or deidad, but as a man. And for the first time in decades, his instincts didn't war and scream at being so close and so vulnerable around a human.
••••••
Starrk snarled his still simmering fury and sent his near by underlings scurrying. Even Nnoitra treaded carefully around him in the face of his unusual rage.
After defeating his challenger, Starrk had stormed from the room unhindered. He had stalked and paced the corridors of his den structure for a while before a wolf that had always been loyal to him searched the Alpha out.
The wolf's vivid green eyes had shone in the dark and landed on his form from the other end of the hall and refused to look away, but there had been no challenge in them. The underling had told his leader of Pack members speaking about rebellion. Whispers were circulating that the defeated challenger was trying to build a base of followers from Starrk's ranks. The older male's goal was to pull strength from Starrk and steal the Pack for his own, even going as far as to turn it against the current leader. There were rumors that the traitorous wolf was promising cat blood to any member that joined him and that he was planning on eliminating the human's the feline associated with as well.
Nnoitra watched as Starrk continued to pace. "Why don't ya just kill him and be done with it?"
Starrk paused in his pacing and gave his second a deadpan look, raising one brow. "You know I don't work that way." He said in a drawling voice, then resumed his agitated stalking.
Even if he did kill off the challenger before the wolf could become a threat again, it was very possible that whatever support the older wolf had gathered would still come after Starrk and his role as leader. Killing the older wolf with no proof besides what his underlings had heard in whisper may also push some of the undecided members toward going against Starrk. He had to tread carefully in this situation.
The Alpha turned to his smaller underling. He watched wide, green eyes swing to follow his movements as the wolf patiently and silently waited for Starrk's orders.
"Let me know if you hear of anything else. For now we will bide our time and see what happens." He told the loyal werewolf.
"Yes, sir." The smaller male bowed slightly, then turned and dismissed himself, heading in the direction he had come.
Starrk turned back to address Nnoitra. "Go find Lilynette. Bring her to me."
The Alpha stalked off in the direction of his personal chambers, leaving his trusted second with his orders.
Nnoitra would do as he was told, and he would make sure the she-wolf remained unharmed on the journey. At this point, there was no telling what the enraged and rebellious members would do to get back at Starrk for his inactivity.
As the Alpha padded in the direction of his chambers, he began to wander if perhaps he had been too lenient and apathetic in his leadership toward his subordinates. It angered him even further to think that he may have to change his approach. He had spent so long at the head of the Pack without so much as the rumor of an upstart, it seemed almost impossible that he would have to worry about loosing the mantle of Alpha now.
The werewolf bared his curved fangs in the dark of the tunnel, his normally calm grey eyes swirling with seething emotions. He would take care of this issue, he would put an end to the problem, even if he had to rid himself of half the Pack. He could always rebuild.
••••••
Shiro slowly lowered his aimed gun away from the feline as he watched the events unfold.
Blue swirled with every emotion imaginable as black fur gave way to smooth, bronzed skin. Vertical slitted pupils rounded out as the man gave away his more powerful form in favor of returning King's embrace.
The albino holstered his gun. He wasn't entirely sure what had just transpired, it would have had to be one hell of a Caster to be able to bind the fierce and strong willed Pantera but then, he and Ichi still didn't have the full story, only bits and pieces that he had mumbled out loud. Shiro was just glad he hadn't had to hurt the man.
Grimmjow had seemed on the verge of braking down and attacking the orange haired Caster, but hadn't actually laid a hand on the smaller man. Shiro had been able to tell he didn't want to hurt Ichigo, but he had seen what pain and fear could drive a man to do.
The tension and painful emotions that had permeated the air seemed to be evaporating and Shiro turned to get a better look at the inside of the temple that had been dedicated to the deidad they had just invited into their home. The thought struck him and it finally hit home that he and King were involved, in many ways, with a very powerful individual.
"So this used ta be yers?" He asked over his shoulder, his watery tone curious as he walked toward the throne Grimmjow had been sitting in when they found him.
Ichigo carefully reached up and gently brushed the backs of his fingers across Grimmjow's jaw line, a small smile tilting his lips as he looked up into vivid blue. The Caster was mildly surprised when the feline didn't flinch away from the contact like usual, but he didn't let it show and was happy for it. He gave the man a small nod, meant to tell him that all was ok, before he stepped past and toward his twin.
"Yes, this is mine." The werepanther answered, following after the orange haired Caster that had joined his twin in front of the throne.
The two men looked up at the large, imposing structure of twisted bone. It was odd and little creepy looking, but beautiful none the less. Like the were-creature that claimed it, the throne held a wild and untamable air about it. It had a deadly grace that made the onlooker think of the man that was currently standing behind the twins.
Ichigo turned to look up at the bluenette. "It suits you" He said with a small smile.
Grimmjow smirked and nodded his head in agreement, glad that the humans had pulled him away from his past. His mind was much more at ease now, and he knew that Ichigo had been telling him the truth. This Caster was different from the others, this human would never try to break or bind him. And in return, he would never have to destroy the Caster or his brother.
Shiro ran his hand lightly over the seat of the large chair, feeling how smooth and perfectly carved it was. The craftsmanship of the throne showed how important La Pantera had been to the creator. Countless hours had been put into the task of making it before it had been sealed and given to the deidad.
The blue haired man froze when the pale human touched his throne. A shiver worked up his spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air against his bare body. It had been centuries since another living thing had touched it, and he had nearly forgotten that he could feel when someone did. The link between he and his symbolic throne was originally designed as a warning to the werepanther that someone was tampering with what was his. But it seemed that depending on the person's intent, the feeling he got from the contact was different.
Most natural creatures were instinctually driven away from his throne and temple by his lingering scent and aura. Even most humans that ever chanced upon it were repulsed and given an uneasy feeling by it, though it was hidden deep in a dangerous forest that very few dared to tread through and didn't happen often.
The two men before him seemed unbothered as they continued to look at, as if they didn't feel the throne's natural defenses or were immune to it.
"Why make it look like bone?" Ichigo asked curiously, looking back at the structure. He covered his mouth with his hand as a yawn worked it's way free.
Grimmjow walked past the humans, a slight swaggering in his step, and retook his place on his throne; looking for all the world like he belonged there. A smirk pulled across his handsome features as the Caster's face tinted a slight shade of pink and Shiro's golden eyes openly raked his naked form.
"It was shaped to resemble the bones of a creature called a Hollow. Hollows had no natural enemies, they were at the top of the food chain and used to roam the earth, terrorizing and killing the humans." Grimmjow explained, watching the men that stood in front of him.
The bluenette shrugged and sat back in his seat, unashamed and hardly noticing his state of undress around the two men. They would have to get used to it if he were to live with them, he couldn't wear clothes in his resurrection after all. "I began hunting them for the humans and killed off the last long ago."
Shiro walked around the back of the throne, inspecting the rib structure that Grimmjow leaned back against. The entirety of the structure had been carved from a single, large stone, giving it an immense strength and durability. There were no joins or pieces that could loosen or fall away.
"Were they all so odd lookin'?" He asked, fingers dancing along the twisted stone.
Grimmjow shuddered at the sensation but quickly recomposed himself. "Each one looked a little different."
Shiro raised a brow at the man's odd reaction but didn't bother to comment. He watched King yawn again and fond smile creased his pale lips.
"You guys ready ta go home yet?" He asked, walking around to the front of the throne again and not bothering to keep his eyes off the attractive bluenette sitting on the chair.
Ichigo nodded and looked to the werepanther still seated like a real king on his throne.
"Do we need ta find a way ta get that thing ta the house?" Shiro asked the smirking bluenette. Oddly enough, he felt Grimmjow's throne would fit strangely well in their castle like home.
Grimmjow's smirk turned into a soft smile as he thought about what the pale man asked.
"Nah. It belongs here" He said, standing from his perch and descending the tiered steps of the raised dais. Even if they could find a way to get the massive structure to the human's home, it's place would be forever in the ruined and abandoned temple of La Pantera.
Grimmjow had always meant when he said he didn't want his godhood back, he didn't need his throne any longer. He walked past the humans without looking back and exited his temple. He could always visit again if he ever felt so inclined in the future.
For now, though, his restlessness had finally settled down and he was looking forward to joining Shiro and Ichigo in bed.
AN: you guys have no idea how hard it was to refrain from writing a random sex scene on that damn throne... but it really just wouldn't have fit with the feeling of this chapter...
Ok, about the part where Grimm has his little breakdown. I hope it didn't confuse anyone. I was trying to write it to make it feel more like he was living/ seeing his past and what was happening in the present at the same time. *shrugs* hope it made sense
Anyway~ What did you think about the chapter?