VERGIL:
FLASHBACK (TWO NIGHTS AGO):
It is the middle of the night, and Byron, who says he is my assistant, barges into my room with two women. One is clothed in a cloak, which makes me assume she is a witch.
“Good evening, Alpha Vergil,” she greets, then she walks towards me. “I am here to restore your memory to you, and if you sit still, then I can undo the spell.”
“It is for your own good, Alpha. The fate of the pack lies in this,” Byron chirps in.
I grumble, sitting up. Then the lady steps forward, chanting some spell before coating the room with incense. She places a thumb on my forehead, muttering something. My head begins to pound with an influx of memories, and my vision blurs, letting me live only in my memory. I walk through it so fast that I barely keep up until I find mysel
