He really was an insensitive idiot.
Zev roughly rubbed his face as if to get rid of the mad whispers that haunted him. “I know what you came to say. My answer won’t change.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Zev repeated angrily. “Killing is the worst sin one can commit. You know this as well as I do.”
Yes, a lesson Cassiel was forced to learn. “Training with a blade and striking someone with it are two different things.”
“Then what is the purpose of learning how to handle weapons if not to take lives with them?”
“To defend herself. To feel capable. Safer. Would you rather she be completely helpless? What if, by some unfortunate happening, she is taken from us again?” His chest tightened at the thought. He didn’t want to ever feel the way he did when she was taken from him. What if next time … he couldn’t save her?
Zev started pacing. “I won’t let that happen.”
Cassiel scowled. “Neither of us wanted it to happen, but it did. It is foolish to be unprepared for all possibilities. When misfortune comes for her, be it through an enemy or circumstance, it will devour her in an instant. Misfortune always comes. Right now, she is defenseless. I will not leave her to be.”
Zev’s eyes flashed yellow when he whipped around, a growl his only response.
“Be angry with me if you must, but she asked this of us, and I will help her.”
“She doesn’t need to learn how to use weapons,” Zev rumbled. “She has us for that.”
At the wildness sharpening his features and his growing fangs, and it dawned on Cassiel that Zev’s wolf only surfaced when he was angry—or threatened. Damn. The witch hadn’t been far off the mark.
“This is not about Dyna, is it?”
Zev turned away, and it was answer enough. He didn’t want her to learn how to defend herself with a weapon because he saw himself as one. As a weapon to be wielded for her sake. A werewolf’s instinct to protect their family prevailed over all else. It was the only thing keeping him sane.
“Do you believe if she learns how to protect herself, she will not have need of you anymore?” Cassiel asked.
Halting in place, Madness swirled in Zev’s yellow eyes. Claws extended from his fingers, and fur spread across his shoulders and neck. Cassiel quickly stepped back, his heartbeat quickening. It was overtaking him. Dyna hadn’t told him what to do if this happened.
“Zev?” he called warily. “Do you hear me?”
Fur continued sprouting all over his body as he shook. It was too late.
He was sinking.
Before Cassiel could think it through, before this could go any further, he swung. The punch snapped Zev’s face back, and he stumbled against a tree with a curse.
A menacing growl rumbled deep in Zev’s throat as he bared his teeth. “Did you hit me?”
Cassiel flexed his fist, testing the bones for breaks. Punching him was like punching a rock. “Do not expect an apology. You are, however, free to thank me.”
Zev snorted half-heartedly. His fangs slowly retracted as the fur along his arms gave away to skin. He closed his red-rimmed eyes and dropped his head against the trunk. It may have been treated as a jest, but Cassiel meant it. He hadn’t known what else to do. By some dumb luck, striking him had been enough to snap him back to his senses.
“I’m losing reasons to be here,” Zev murmured. “Dyna’s changing. Growing. She’s advancing in life, and I …”
“Feel stagnant?” That’s what Cassiel’s life had been like. Unchanging and insignificant like the sediment at the bottom of a lake. Well, it had until she came bumbling along, stirring up the waters.
“No,” Zev rasped. “I’ve fallen from the branch, left to rot in the mud.”
Cassiel followed his empty stare to the yellow leaves at his feet. Some were already browning. They would desiccate and crumble piece by piece until they were nothing but skeletons of what they once were.
A chill of trepidation crept through him. Zev was unraveling. It hovered on his trembling form, and in the shadows of his lost gaze. The Madness fed on his grief and self-hate. It consumed him, and it would keep consuming him until there was nothing left.
Chapter 12
