Strength of another
#8
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     A smile broke across Gabriel’s face at the hiss. The denial in her tone was exquisite. She might have imagined those scars proved a point, but the Aquila saw them as nothing more then mistakes. All of his had been. Most had been earned in war—her own, he was sure, were likely for petty reasons. It took a lot of brass to carve WHORE into someone’s back, and as mad as he reckoned Haku to be, he doubted it was without reason.
     “I don’t know what you came here expecting,” Gabriel said flatly, charms around his neck clinking quietly. “But Cercelee and I have an agreement. I will not act because a child cannot do so herself.” That was a test. He had seen the spark of anger, and he imagined that she had come here to provoke a response. Now it was his turn.




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