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Summary
He was hurt, he must be. He shook his head as if that would clear away the aching pain he felt in his lower regions. He must be bleeding out, stabbed, shot, something. Anything other than the idea that he could be in heat of all things.
Vox finally found the perfect way to win against Alastor. Of course it was something as simple as tapping into the deer's instincts. Much to Alastor's dismay, his body seems to agree.
Alternatively: Vox fucks around and Alastor finds out.
