quite eradicated
Zana. Ezekiel’s face did not betray him, but he balked inwardly. Of all the people to consider for mates, it was Zana…and yet he had gone and run with Halo. A low and heavy fury began to boil in his belly, like hot iron. How dare he. How dare he claim to love a woman and sleep with her enemy? The undercurrents of Inferni were not so hidden to leave him ignorant of such things, especially when the two were hardly secretive about how they behaved around each other. The Aquila had not seen any outright aggression, but he knew it was brewing.
The golden man frowned severely as the Hydra turned his face, but forced the mask of indifference to return. He breathed out, tasting iron on his tongue, and shook his head lightly. “Helotes,” the Aquila’s voice dropped, dangerously low. “When I was a boy, I found Zana wandering our shore. She was running from the mother that burnt her tail; she knew nothing but her father’s name was Lykoi.” The fact of the matter was that he still had no idea who her father was—she looked so different from the others. “She was my ward then. I still consider her to be under my protection now.” He looked to the taller man sharply. “I suggest you make certain that you can control your…urges, before you ask her anything. She’s had to endure enough torture in her life.” The coyote rose, and walked behind the Hydra. His steps were heavy, digging into the soft earth. He wondered if it was the weight in his belly, then dismissed the thought. “See Enkiel about your wounds before they get infected.”
Red feet carried him away from the water, away from the warm air and the warrior within. The golden coyote did not look back and did not slow his pace; the slow burn in his stomach had begun to boil over onto his face, darkening it severely.
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