She watched the mother break apart at the news her child was gone — was this how it was supposed to be? She had lost children, but it wasn't truly the same; Caillen had been a grown man, taken from the world by...what? Jealousy? Anger? She had been wrong to carry on with him and Ezekiel had made her suffer for her sins against her blood. Myron had helped her bury the giant corpse. The world had kept turning as it always had, but now it stopped again and shifted as a mother grieved for her adult child and the loss of his presence on the earth. Talitha felt little pity for Alaine, but she felt grief for the loss of the man all the same — still, even after taking Cotl as her significant other, her heart burned with the same haunting desire to have the wolfdog once more. Love was not an emotion she allowed herself to think of, it was a dangerous thing that she reserved for only her father and brother, but it seemed Caillen had broken down the wall that separated it from the general masses and taken it for himself. She hadn't allowed herself to admit it before, but it came to her sure enough as she tried to keep her sadness in. The only man she'd loved was dead.
How? she asked, and Talitha closed her eyes again, her face turning away. For the briefest moment, she considered lying, but she knew that it was obvious. "Ezekiel," she croaked, her brother's name feeling foreign on her lips as it entered the air. Ezekiel had done nothing wrong, not in the eyes of his sister, but still she hated him for his judgement — she had been happy in the arms of the Winters man. It didn't seem enough to simply tell her who, she'd wanted to know how and the de le Poer tried to remember what she knew. She hadn't been there for whatever altercation had happened between the men, but she had heard the call and she hadn't moved fast enough. "He came to find me." He'd been dead when she'd reached him and she hadn't had the time to properly mourn, for Ezekiel's fury had called her away. She should have tended to her brother first, but instead her arms had found the dog — oh, the way Ezekiel had spoken to her, it still cut her like a knife.
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