Ravensblood Forest The one that will occasionally openly steal babies

merrick had thought he knew what he wished from this meeting: the fulfillment of a swift and demented desire. but there was more here: the promise of destruction, a deeper and more complete ruination than could be provided by an hour of torments.
he was flush with the pride of his success; how easily the brightened boy followed him into the wood! how beautiful was the flinty glow of astara’s eyes as she melted into the shadows alongside the pair, her form suited for it, all devil-smoke and silent padding.
he could turn on the child now, at any second, snap the delicate muzzle in two, crush the young ribcage. the thought fired merrick to heights of impulsivity not before felt, but he kept himself in check, thrumming with his own power.
”just watch me,” merrick instructed. ”coyotes are nasty but they’re also pretty stupid. lots of teeth. no brain.”
the branches were beginning to thicken overhead, their interlacing providing more cover for the pair and the one that followed. merrick remained torn, so intrigued was he by his own ability to sway the boy.