Her words stopped him in his tracks. His sleek head swiveled around, focusing completely on the jet-black luperci within the crumbling building. Blood-red eyes narrowed, searching her features for some source of familiarity. He didn’t even see a chaos star branded into her flesh. “Who are you?” he asked, his clawed paws balanced precariously on some scattering of rubble from the collapsed wall. He couldn’t place her.
The child—the infant that he’d laid eyes on no more than a handful of times so long ago—was dead and gone to him now. Eris Lykoi had become irrelevant. Once, she’d invoked hatred and jealousy—not even on a personal level, but on a symbolic one, as she’d stolen his mother’s affection away, and then her physical being when she’d left to chase her errant daughter across the desert.