Even as she turned on him, this thing that had once been his little girl, Gabriel watched her with the distance earned by enemies. She had attacked him once before, and it had been met without impasse. Again, he met her torrent, and again he remained unmoved. Talitha had proven she would fall to him. Even Ezekiel bowed yet.
This was why he felt nothing when she accused him of what he had been trying to do since they were children. A bond to parents made one weak. He was loyal to Kaena, but only so much. He was not fanatical, like Molochai had been, nor was he sick like Samael. Distance made for strength. If they did not need him, they would not hurt when he was gone. A brutal, savage idea, but one Gabriel had cultivated since the first war. The Kali’s had made Ezekiel both a warrior and soft; Andre and Dahlia de Mai had warped Talitha into a beast.
No trace of any emotional change passed on the black-brushed wolf. His whiskers curled away from his teeth. “Then look after your other children. I’ll keep him safe until I take him away, but the others are your responsibility. You’re the first to bear children; I want them to live.” A legacy, in its own way, would make him immortal.
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