Two Eyes Cenote rekhyt

His pale gold eyes regarded her solemnly—the clench of a jaw as he wished to correct her—reveal his true name—everything she had done to a woman he could have loved. How she could not love him back because of it—how a kingdom had somehow brought the packs outside of it to ruin without even fluttering an eyelash.

For all he knew, the woman Akashingo had branded mentally lay dead in a desert—her survival remained unknown to him. What he did know was the scar across his eye, still fresh, from her. Her disgust with him—hatred, perhaps.

He knew Wren’s pain and abandonment, as well.

He knew his failure as a parent, five times over.

Akavir knew pain, and yet he could not bring this admittance to the girl so eager to please—was she truly the beautiful angel she portrayed herself to be, or was she one of the best pretenders to have ever existed?

Beaten—he could feel the weight of his failures so heavy on his shoulders now. “You know, then, the legacy of your pack? Surely, then… You might understand my need to keep my daughter from you and yours.”

He paused. And then: "I've lived in a kingdom, before. Cruelty will always be at the helm of your politics."