Word Count → 363
The cringe passing over his features left her alarmed. It was as if the boy expected her to hit him; physical violence toward a child had not been something she experienced at any time, for her parents had punished her in far different ways. The thought that someone had been so cruel to the young boy before her caused a vague bubble of anger to swell in the pit of her stomach. Abuse was not unknown to her; she had seen the victims of such situations on her travels away from Inferni. It didn't register that one would find its way into the skull-lined borders.
Or into her family.
He addressed himself as Makhesthai Lykoi, a surname that she knew to be her own. Had one of her numerous cousins given birth without her knowledge? It was possible, as she was so frequently locked in a world all to herself, but she was sure she might have learned of the products not long after; they were all family in the end. No, she was certain this Lykoi was not truly born to Lykoi blood, not smelling like Kaena as he did.
"My name is Talitha, and no. I do not believe this is wrong." She gave a shake of her curl-topped head, studying his much smaller Luperci body. She had never seen a child change, at least not since her own youth, and it had been so long since she and Ezekiel entered the ranks of adult life and transformation that she could not distinctly remember the process. Of course, they had been older. She did know that much. Wonderment passed over her features as she tried to comprehend why his body eschewed the natural order of things.
A gentle hand reached out to rest on the boy's shoulder. "I believe all of us, at least here within Inferni, are capable of the same changes. We are older, but we are not unused to such things." Her attempts to offer comfort that he would not be shunned or treated poorly for such an unusual phenomena proved difficult for her mind to muster; kindness was not easily taken from the de le Poer princess.
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