It did not matter what Gabriel thought. She was stubborn, and he recognized that in the way she spoke to him. Regardless of what he said or what his opinion was, she would continue on the path before her. Yet she grew agitated when he spoke of the dead man’s children, apparently so. Perhaps she truly held Conor is such high regard that she could not take his life. The Aquila likened it to this—though he certainly would not have felt the same if their roles were reversed. Gabriel above all else believed in blood.
Perhaps, though, she would find her blood elsewhere. Perhaps it did not matter if the blood came from Haku. He considered this idea, letting it go momentarily. An idea came to him quietly, whispered in a voice that he likened to that of a dead man. His eyes turned cold. “Do you want to see what becomes of them?” His voice dropped, coated itself in frost, and spoke of a challenge (and a warning) that he hoped she would understand.
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