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bastards as I can. They came into my house, they tried to kill me, and they crucified my kid. I want to punish them. I want that punishment to be so hard, so vicious, that the next scum who takes their place wets himself at the mere thought of trying to fight me.”
Slayer smoked in its sheath, sensing my anger. Normally I’d have to feed it, or its blade would become thin and brittle, but with the magic flowing this strong, the sword would last through the battle and then some.
I pointed to the yard. “The shapeshifters fight to take a stand against a threat and to avenge their dead Pack mates. They fight to protect their children, because without them there is no future. What do you fight for?”
He ruffled the wild nest of his hair. “I have no future anyway. I fight because I made a deal with Morrigan. Without mist, I’ll age and die.”
“Would aging be such a bad thing? Don’t you want a life? A real life?”
He sneered. “If I wanted a real life, I wouldn’t have asked to be a hero. When I die, I want to die strong, with a sword in my hand, sheathing it into the bodies of my enemies. That’s how a man should die.”
I sighed. “My father served as a warlord to a man of unequaled power. This man called my father
‘Voron,’ which means Raven, because death followed him. Voron had never been defeated with a blade.
Had he remained as a warlord to lead the army he had built and trained, the world would be a very different place.”
“Is there a point to this tale?”
“He left it all behind for my sake.” And he did it all for a child not of his own blood.
“Then your father was a fool and now I know why you’re one.”
I closed my eyes. “There is no reasoning with you. Let me sleep.”
I heard him jump off the rail and land next to me, and then he poked my shoulder with his finger.
“I’m trying to understand.”
I opened my eyes. Explaining my moral code really wasn’t my forte. “Imagine you’re being chased by wolves. You’re running through the woods, no settlement in sight, and you come across a baby lying abandoned on the ground. Do you save the baby or do you leave him for the wolves?”
I saw the hesitation in his dark eyes. “I’d leave the little bastard,” he declared, a bit too loudly. “Would slow the wolves down.”
“You had a doubt.”
He raised his hand but I shook my head. “I saw it. You had a doubt. You thought about it for a second.
The same force that drove that doubt is what makes us fight. Now leave me be.”
I curled up on my blanket and closed my eyes. The wind gently stroked my face and soothed me into