[@timelord1101]
[retcon - the jumble in Clays head slowly sorting into sense]

Before Alex was ejected from the wild wolfs mind she stumbled across fearful regrets of a fading Clay. 
He was fearful that he would act the way he did earlier, his small moment of aggression towards Alex replaying over again and again. It was swathed in guilt and self disappointment. It rolled into an anger that fought the dying battle against the pent up beast. 

But that memory was only just the tip of the armoury of weapons to use against it. 
He grabbed that one because it was fresh and relevant. Beneath it lay a hundred more all too painful to retrieve, drowned by booze and covered in violence and senseless sex, he hid them instead of facing them. 

Alex felt the pattern and knew what Clay was going to do next. What he always did.
Runaway.