Ankyra Sound angels clawed with burnished wings still loyal kiss the seal

another novel here u go ur welcome

there was no missing the wrath that had at first consumed rosalyn; as firefly carefully laid out their interaction with the dragedan, even in caiaphas' light-headed stupor, she had caught the mounting anger that throttled her once-nemesis. she had smiled a bloody smile into the sand, delirious as she formed her comeback and obviously well-planned reason for attacking vercingetorix -- only to have immediately passed out from her own blood loss.

her first thought when she woke, wild-eyed with her head throbbing, was that hellfire was surely coming her way. if rosalyn did not deliver it, the curs of drageda would -- as she wrestled with her ailing body to sit upright (and was just as soon put to the ground by erzulie) caiaphas recalled the reason she had first struck drageda's lone wolf.

it was because as far as she remembered of that stormy night, he was one of very few capable wolves. her opinion of her enemy had been low prior to rosalyn's abduction, and yet seeing drageda in full force that thundering night had done nothing to dissolve her contempt for them: it only grew now that she knew the pack was nothing but yearlings and a few wolves hardly more experienced in war than she. if they had killed him, such a blow would have doubtless been crippling to drageda's auxiliary forces.

if only he had not escaped.

caiaphas grimaced, bitter that the blackened cur had eluded their grasp. had he been dispatched there, drageda would have never known -- but instead, he had managed to weasel his way from what she believed was a deserving death there, alone with nothing but enemies at his throat.

her head suddenly snarled with white pain and she closed her eyes; such exertion, even of the mental kind, still exhausted her.

as she slunk back into feebleness, she heard erzulie's throaty voice -- the quiet admittance that she would have done the same was answered with a thin smile that lingered on the siren's lethal muzzle. aye, that erzulie would have -- caiaphas' only regret now was that it had not be done cleaner.

she was too weak to prop her head up, but she caught the lingering form of rosalyn as her shadow passed over them. glancing upon the woman, she found her expression inscrutable -- whether that was because of her own poor shape, or because much of rosalyn's features were too darkened by the bright contrast behind her, caiaphas could not tell. she could feel the she-wolf's burning, almost writhing intensity -- and half expected that sharp words would surely follow.