There was no sign that the reaction much fazed him. Larkspur did not need to see the boy’s face to smell the fear-scent that rose from the floor. His lip curled, eyes narrowing into slits. His stupid weak illegitimate family had made a mockery of the D’Angelo name. If he did not put a stop to it, his Aunt-Mother would surely take back her promise. He could not let her down. Not when he was so close to understanding.
The black wolf shook his coat, spraying the room with rainwater. Harlowe said something about food. Even with the endless noise of the rain and thunder, he could hear the scratching and the squeaking of small animals. A whispering voice reminded him he did not need handouts. He would not beg for his food anymore. He would not take anything he did not acquire himself. Larkspur’s lips pulled away from his gums, exposing teeth yellowing with age. “So this is how y'waste time? If y’wanted to be a good fer nothin’ then y’should have stayed with yer mother,” he spat.
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