The Sentinels ageless beauty

He hadn't heard his name from a stranger in a long time, nor less spoken in that broken kind of tone, and he turned, dreading who he'd find. A woman, so maybe Eris? No, he knew her voice. One of the Sanctuary people? Oh, shitfuck, what had happened--

He couldn't have predicted in a million years that he'd be staring down a wolf he'd hoped not to see again.

Fan-fucking-tastic. One of the double Keils. One of Runion's creepy Oedipal crew.

Ashari, Zamael croaked, rising unsteadily to his feet. What're you doing here? Did Shaara come with? Athris? What the fuck? It was some sort of fever dream. He had caught something along the coast and now he was dying, and hallucinating ghosts of his past. Jesus. That meant Alarian must be right around the corner.

It wasn't that he despised her, just what she was. What she symbolized. His disgusting brother, and the desire he couldn't rein in. She shouldn't have been born, poor thing. Yet here she was.