He was so torn and broken, internally ravished. The prince of fear had become true chaos and destruction. Everything that he touched turned to ash between his fingers. He couldn’t embrace anything without its immediate decimation. The rational part of him, the creature that recognized reality, knew that this contentment could not last. Everything was meant to fall apart before him. He wasn’t meant to be happy. It was merely waiting for the impending crash now—the impact that shredded his jugular with shrapnel. But every other aspect of his being was consumed by the maelstrom of his emotion, collapsing beneath the weight of his own desire. Everything else was irrelevant. Nothing but Kaena mattered, and how she pulled him close, resting her head so calmly against his shoulder.
He sunk into her embrace, succumbing to her affection. No one else could tame the wicked monster that he was like she could. He would slit his own throat before he would ever lay a finger on her, intentionally harming her. The same couldn’t be said for his own children. “Samael is yours,” he said, fraying gently. Something shifted nearby. He could hear it. He could smell its flesh, alive with sweat and pulsing blood. His eyes opened, catching brief movement behind a close outcropping of rocks against the ocean of white snow.