Oh how it looked like he had wounded her; how she fell from him like a deer, wide-eyed and wounded. It was not in him to be like her. Dark wings carried him on, and he would forever be destined to destroy her bloodline. This was fate. Something more ancient forced his hand.
A voice so much unlike her own made his eyes narrow, sharpen. It was instinct alone that he fell to. Instinct that fell when she bared her teeth at him, turning her savage. Ezekiel’s lips pulled back and revealed larger, wolfish fangs. Perhaps he was no better than his father—but they were different yet. Gabriel was not half this cruel. God would save him. Ezekiel’s faith knew God as a stranger, as his Father.
He knew demons far better.
“You’re a fool,” he spat, snarling. “Do not make an enemy of me.”
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