Desmond pulled up to the party a little late but he could still hear the thumping music inside the house. The front door was wide open and several people were standing on the porch chatting. A girl was seated in the chair and had several sharpie drawings on her face. Along with the word slut written in big bold letters. It was obvious that somebody had tried, unsuccessfully, to disguise the word with more permanent ink. Unfortunately the word was written in black and who ever had tried to hide it had used bright red which made the bold letters stand out even more.
He recognized Lily Sutton. She was Frankie Sutton's mate. They had made it official barely a week ago. He approached her and could smell alcohol and saliva all over her as well as something else, something vaguely familiar. It was slightly bitter and he couldn't quite place where he had smelled it before. "Lily?" He asked as he shook her shoulder gently.
"No moe pic hers." She slurred as she shifted only a little. He picked her up and locked her in the back seat of his truck. He would talk to her tomorrow about what happened. He entered the house and immediately knew that something was very wrong.
He could smell Clarity but the scent was tainted by something very bitter. It was hard to follow it since it was covered by the smell of vomit alcohol and body oder. It managed to lead him up the stairs and down the hall to a door that was locked. He jiggled the handle and then pounded on the door.
"Jesus Christ I brought her wait your fucking turn dude!" Someone called through the door and Alicar growled angrily at the disrespect.
'Alicar! Focus!' He heard a weak voice mutter one word and it was enough to send him into a murderous rage.
"Stop." He kicked the door in and stormed over to the bed where Timothy Sanders was on top of Clarity, foundling her naked breasts. It was clear that she had been drugged as she struggled to free herself in vain. He couldn't smell any alcohol on her. Just that bitter scent that he now recognized as Rohypnol. A date rape drug. He had to listen to Alpha Macrov talk about it at the Alpha conference in Romania. He had been given a full day to talk about the rising threat to female wolves and had passed several samples around for them to smell so they would know if it had been used.
Macrov's adopted human daughter had swiped one of the pills and, before anyone could stop her, she injested the damn thing. It didn't take long for it to take affect and Macrov had been very vocal about what would happen if anything happened to her that she didn't consent to. After Desmond saw the effects of the drug he had called for the death penalty for anyone who used it. No one had opposed his opinion as he expected they wouldn't.
Now Clarity's green dress and cardigan were nothing more than scraps of fabric on the floor and a large whole had been ripped in the crotch of her tights. He had no clue where her bra was but didn't really care as he set about teaching Timothy a lesson he would never forget. He ripped the smaller man off of Clarity and drew his fist back only to thrust it straight forward into Timothy's bewildered face. He smirked in satisfaction when he heard the sickening crunch of his nose.
Timothy went limp and he dropped him to the floor. He knelt next to his unconscious body and with one sharp claw he carved one word into his face. When he was done he nodded, satisfied with his handy work. There, written in bleeding capital letters was the word RAPIST. It was all that needed to be said. The scars would stay with him forever.
"Desmon." Clarity slurred from the bed as she weakly reached for him. There were tears running down her perfect face. Her hair was tasseled from her fight to free herself from Timothy's hold. In the the dim light streaming in from the stairs he could see the bruises developing on her wrists and breasts. Timothy had not been gentle with her. "Please Desmon don. Prove me wrong Desmon. Please prove me wrong." Her voice was shaking as she begged. She let out a weak sob. Normally he would have sneered at someone weak enough to cry in front of someone else. Just not tonight, not under these circumstances, not her.
"Luna, are you asking me to show mercy?" She nodded, to drugged to realize what he was actually saying. Markus was now standing in the doorway. He had heard him loud and clear. He stood to his full height of six foot eleven and glared down at her. "To be absolutely clear. You are granting him a Luna pardon. Is that what you are saying, Clarity?"
"Please, Desmon. Don' kill 'im." Her voice was getting more slurred as she faded out of consciousness.
"No, Luna. I will prove you wrong. This time." The Luna pardon was an ancient tradition that still held sway in wolf culture. A Luna could plead for the life of a criminal and they would be spared. Desmond suspected that Clarity had pleaded for Timothy for her own peace of mind. She had begged for him to prove her wrong. And he had. "Get this trash out of my sight!" He hissed at Markus.
"What? So he gets to live that's it? Alpha he attacked her! You should snap his fucking neck! You-"
"WILL HONOR THE LUNA PARDON!!" Desmond shouted over Markus' protests. "And you should hope I am as merciful with you when dealing with your failure."
"Alpha I had no idea! If I had I would have stopped Timothy from bringing her-"
"Where is Lily?" Desmond growled angrily. Markus looked around as if she would be right next to him and realized what must have happened.
"Fuck! Lily!" He called as he spun around trying to find his sister in law.
"Markus Sutton! You are to leave here immediately and go straight to my office at the pack house!" Desmond commanded in his alpha tone. Markus lowered his eyes and muttered his compliance before rushing down stairs and out of the house. Desmond would deal with him later. He hoisted Timothy to his feet by his belt as he noticed the other man stirring. Desmond dragged Timothy from the room and to the stairs. Then, without so much as a heads up or look out below, he threw Timothy bodily through the air and down the stairs. He heard a sickening crunch as Timothy's head hit the tile of the entry way. He may have killed the fucker and he didn't care.
He barely registered that it was silent down stairs now. He heard drunken murmurs and half shouts of amusement. They had no idea that Timothy was thrown and now he was dying. Desmond pulled off the green and black flannel shirt he had thrown on over his black T-shirt on a whim. He was now glad he had it as he removed Clarity's tights and put the shirt on her. It was far to big for her tiny frame.
Desmond felt horrible. He had wanted to see her naked but not like this. How would she ever trust him now. His heart sank fast as she struggled to stop him. The adrenaline was gone from her system. Meaning she had no idea who was friend or foe now. She fought him because she thought he was a threat. She wasn't exactly wrong. He was a threat. But not to her. Never to her.