Silvertip Mountain You will hear music and then you will not

Despite the airiness in Merrick's tone, a welcome change from the shrieking madness in the cave, the line of Aventus' jaw grew taut with his words. His mother was dead. She was moldering in the ground. He knew exactly what Merrick meant to do, and disapproved of it wholly.

He said nothing. He did nothing, only watched his father depart. His temple pulsed along with the silent grinding of his teeth together. Of all the wolves he thought should rest peacefully, his mother ranked highest. Slowly, he willed the tension out of his shoulders, only glancing to Arielle when he felt she would not find only coldness in his eyes.

Yet he, too, wanted to be alone now. Even her company could not settle the unease in the pit of his stomach. He held her gaze for a moment, then dropped it, and his voice was uncharacteristically soft when he said, excuse me, and took his leave.