Under a Killing Moon
#10
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indent Gabriel was not possessed, as his father was. He was entirely in his own mind, driven only to the older, weaker part of his being. There was no outside influence. In times of desperation, he lost himself to rage and fury. He still smelled like blood. He could still taste the fear. The wind blew his hair in and out of his face and he looked down, finally aware of the pain in his hand. Of course. He would have found the spell broken by a half-brother who meant nothing to him. Jasper was neither friend nor enemy. He shared only a common father and that was not enough to save him in the end.

indent That was, perhaps, why his voice remained stern. “Don’t cry,” he commanded, lifting his bloody hand to his face. His tongue ran over the small cuts, cleaning it briefly. It would do. “It isn’t safe out here,” he added.





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