He had almost forgotten the taste of fear. Haku had taken that away from him, stripped him of any cowardice. Gabriel feared no living beast, but he feared those things he had been running from for years. Yellow eyes and crooked teeth. Wolves who had fulfilled his mother’s prophecy and sought to destroy his bloodline. There would always be those who would seek such a thing, for there was glory in it. The wolf who had cut his face open the first time had taught him that. Both creatures had let pride consume them—Gabriel alone had lived.
The woman’s touch was soft against him, calming, yet she spoke of the endless battle he faced. Gabriel’s eyes sharpened and filled with pent-up violence. Within him there too was a beast, one that sought to end all other monsters and become king. “If I don’t believe, no one will,” he said lowly, ferociously. The holy signs around his neck rose and fell with each breath, and though he no longer felt their weight, Gabriel knew their meanings.
She was a victim of such terrible things, and he wished to make it clear he understood. He would never know the true horror of absolute surrender. He would never be broken in that way. Two women were enough for him to see there were things far more devious than war and violence in the world. Gabriel lifted one of his hands to hold onto her own.
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