Stavanger Bay anymore

the ceto's gaze rapidly cooled as dalia spoke. "what a fuckin' asshole," he spat when his mate had finished relating her encounter with their new dear leader. as a testament to how upset he was, velen did not pause to inwardly simper and gloat over the fact he could now call the sea-eyed girl his mate; he moved to pace before her, stopping only to let his gaze settle on her flanks, where surely soon she would begin to show.
"i don't know if they're safe now, dalia," velen blurted grimly, seeing no reason to sugarcoat the reality they now faced. "they aren't his; why would he care what happens to them? ford is ... was ... is their uncle, so he's vested in their well-being." a ragged sigh broke from his throat, and then at once his head lifted. 
"what if we made your den somewhere else? not here?"