[A name he hasn't heard from Alastair in what feels like ages, it seems. Brings back achingly crisp memories of the pair in their youth, waging war with hunger in their hearts, steel in hand - Alastair had always been controlled to a certain extent (now, Grayson realizes, as a means to restrain the monster beneath his skin) but there was a shadow cast by Augustus D'Argyll that seemed too long to be human, too encompassing to be ignored, and Gray had passed it off as nothing but the need to live up to his father's expectations. He'd pitied the man, then, but now...
Now, it's all grievous wounds and bitter lies, a circle wound around both their tired hearts] You could have stopped it and you know it. [Not his discovery of the truth-- that, no matter how Lucan selfishly protests, is necessary-- but the consequences of it, the pain he's endured, forsaken without comfort from his own bloody kin.]
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Now, it's all grievous wounds and bitter lies, a circle wound around both their tired hearts] You could have stopped it and you know it. [Not his discovery of the truth-- that, no matter how Lucan selfishly protests, is necessary-- but the consequences of it, the pain he's endured, forsaken without comfort from his own bloody kin.]