Ravensblood Forest light of my life, fire of my loins [m]

“”

“I knew Koios. He was savage and replete with cunning, and dedicated wholly to his God. He was as a brother to me, and when he left the Bay, he did so for a reason only he knew, and only he understood.” He knew that the loss of the father she had never met was as a barb to her heart, but the icewater eyes had cooled; he felt the lash of her tongue keenly, and was angered by the sting of hurt that it caused, angered that he could not guard himself against it more closely.

“And I did not leave you, Jinx Kesuk,” the shaman growled, hackles spiking with her accusation. He advanced but one small step; let her leap and rip him if she would. He would allow it, for perhaps he was deserving of her ire — but he would never believe himself the rightful subject of her hatred.

“I have served your family faithfully, and when I came to these lands, and I knew not of your presence but the legacy I assumed the Mambo had passed down, I scented Shearwater. Whether or not you believe she is deserving of my servitude, Lethe nevertheless offered shelter.”

His jaw clicked shut; he was speaking too much, attempting to justify his choices. Lecter faced her in silence, but his heart tore with each passing moment; perhaps the rift here would be too great to mend. “ I was bereft with the loss of you,” the madman muttered quietly. “ I followed Clarice because she is my only blood, but my heart longed to be here. Never once have I wished you dead, Jinx. Not once. I would shatter myself if you passed.”

He did not think that he had spoken so candidly before, and with an inner sigh, he bared his heart to the whip of her tongue or the leaping flames of her malice. She was hurt, he could see, but through perceived betrayals and the misrepresentation of his clumsy words. And so, silent, he waited for her to respond.