guilt

Larkspur D'Angelo · 11-07-2010, 09:27 PM

[html]

Too late, something snapped in Conor. Larkspur would have welcomed the rage before, when it had been needed. Conor might have made an impression on the wolf if he had behaved in such a manner when there was no cause for it. Instead he had been busy focusing on keeping his women and stupid children happy. He let out a singular grunt, but his face was a furious sneer. The children of Khalif had spoken to him in that tone, and he hated them for it. He now too hated Conor, for the sound was unmistakable. Fury turned the edges of his vision red, but he did not move against the boy. He believed Conor would simply do as he had always done and all the pack down on him—one wolf, Larkspur could kill. A pack he could not.

Without a word he slammed the door to his cabin and strode inside. It did not take long for him to gather the few supplies he would need. Then he was in the yard behind the building, saddling the horse. She sensed his unease and was made restless by it. Larkspur led the horse around to the side of the cabin and saw to his surprise that the boy-king was still there. He snarled and mounted the mare quickly, turning her with a jerk of the reigns. With a kick, the heavy horse barreled towards Conor, who sidestepped quickly to avoid the thundering beast.

Larkspur rode east and did not look back. The boy would find him, and when he did, he would follow. Beyond that, Dahlia de Mai’s purpose had faded. He crossed the borders and continued to make his way towards the ruins of the human city, eyes burning in the failing light.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?