Kipsy
Socially Anxious Chocolate Addict
Blake
Silas' Room
Eliruz
Silas' Room
Eliruz
This was bad. As if Custos and Boreal weren't enough for Blake to deal with. No, he just had to get contacted by an overly cocky new alpha who wanted to take up territory in Ithawell. Well, no fucking way was he letting that happen. Over his dead body. And yet, the response to his retort echoed around in his mind, looming over all other thoughts.
"Heh, with pleasure."
Whoever this 'alpha' was, he had guts, Blake had to give him that. He ran through the rest of what this male had spoken of, of the threats and accusations. It was only serving to piss him off more than he already was these past few days. On top of trying to track down any information he could gather about the weakling calling himself an alpha, Blake was constantly reminded that he needed to speak with Oliver and Rhea about the blood slaves they'd purchased without his permission. Overall, it felt like he was losing control of his own pack, and that was really grinding his gears. On top of that, well, there was... the divorce to settle.
Officially and unofficially, Blake wanted nothing to do with Paulina anymore. She'd already left the pack, and he hadn't spoken to her in days, but he knew she'd keep coming back for more until he cut her off entirely. It would be difficult because, as much as he hated to admit it, he still cared for her to some degree. Regardless, he couldn't let his emotions continue to hinder his pack. So that was yet another thing that needed to be dealt with.
Sighing, Blake stood up from where he'd been seated on a rock somewhere in Lichen territory. He needed to gather together his pack for a meeting. These things had to be sorted out or else he was going to lose his mind. Even the Tri-Pack Hunt, which he had oddly enough been looking forward to, was pretty much up in the air at this point. He wouldn't be surprised if it never happened at all. To figure out, he would need to get into contact with the other alphas--the real alphas, he reminded himself, and not that pathetic nobody who claimed to be one over the phone. The thought of talking to Ordan again, or any of the bitten members of the supernatural, had him on edge. He would have to consult the others beforehand. Rash decisions would not help.
Heading back to the home, he entered, sniffing the air for the nearest pack member. Immediately, he picked up on a strange scent. It smelled a bit like Silas, so he assumed the male was trying a new shampoo or something and that had just masked his scent a bit. He tracked it down to Silas' bedroom and, like the rational human being he was, knocked only twice as he barged in. "Silas, I need to--" He froze. There was a strange girl in Silas' bed. He blinked once, then twice, before closing the door, walking to the nearest wall, and slamming his head against it. Sighing, he turned back around and reentered Silas' room, folding his arms and trying his best not to yell.
He did not have very good self-restraint.
"Who are you and why are you in my subordinate's bedroom?" Blake asked as calmly as he could manage. It came out more like a hiss than anything and was much louder than he'd intended. Whether Silas was there or not, as well, he didn't even notice, too preocupied with glaring daggers at this woman's head. Of course, this was all mostly done subconsciously. Mostly.