Emberwood be with a boss

the boy breathed deep and bloody.
the rogue grinned a black grin.
indra was his. his to possess. his to shape. his to have. but marston could be his too, after a fashion. some unholy child not jumped from his own shifty loins, a son to rear up.
course indra could give him the same, one day, and his eyes flashed at that. this time he ate and deeply, moving away from the carcass only when his belly was tight with meat.