Swiftcurrent Creek copper thunder

The woman rejected Akavir's gift, and walked away from his father—but it wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of himself, either. He glanced sidelong toward her retreating form, and was about to follow before Akavir spoke again.

At first, he knew it for a sick joke. . .but then the man continued.

Hex felt his blood run cold, a shiver traveling down his spine. He stared at Akavir, muted terror in the haunted hollows of his face.

"Hex," she'd spat. They'd turned on each other, and it was his fault.

Where? he asked quietly. When?

His pale beauty, stiff in his arms, a tattered tongue lolling to the side after having bitten it in seizure.

Don't go, he called over his shoulder to Muskrat. It was a plea, but his voice was firm. Wait for me.

He could not lose another to this madness.