“I told you,” I grind out. “I came for peace and quiet.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I don’t know how to prove it to you.” My brow furrows as I steady my balance, ready for a fight, all the while resisting the temptation to plant my hands on my hips in exasperation. “Except maybe for the fact that your people attacked us and not the other way around. We were doing nothing more heinous than eating breakfast when your family arrived and picked a fight.”
His forehead creases at that. “There are dead boars on the other side of the island. Their bones were gnawed clean. Your version of ‘eating’ isn’t so peaceful.”
I don’t know anything about dead boars, although the hisses Rumble and Strife are aiming at Ryuji tells me they’re probably the culprits.
“The panthers are carnivores,” I say. “They kill out of necessity.”
“Or for the fun of it,” Ryuji snarls.
I snap back. “Why would you assume that?”
“Because that’s what dark creatures do.”
It’s not like I can deny it.
I shake my head and take a step back. We’re getting nowhere. There’s no reasoning with him.
But the alternative is a lot of dead dragon shifters and he’s made it clear he’s from a powerful family—or at least he wants me to believe so—which means there will be more of them. If we kill these ones, others will come for us.
The keeper’s gaze burns me, and I feel the slightest twinge within my chest, as if he’s trying to silently pour his own feelings into me.
His restraint in this situation reminds of what happened when I first escaped from my cell. I fought a warrior angel—the Serene Commander of the Philadelphia Order. The keeper had stayed out of that fight and at the time, his choice had confused me, since he could have easily killed her.
His explanation afterward echoes back to me now.
“You saw an enemy, but I saw more. She only fought us because she was frightened by our presence.”
So must Ryuji be.
My chest deflates before I say to him, “If I tell you all of the reasons why I’m here, and you find them satisfactory, will you leave us in peace?”
He lowers his hands, his voice faltering. A hint of surprise. “Maybe.”
I stare at him. “Maybe?”
His only response is a narrowing of his eyes, as if he could tear through my thoughts with his gaze alone.
Carefully, I say, “I’m here because my father wants me dead and my biological mother abandoned me.”
He scoffs. “That’s hardly news. Dark creatures always hate their children.”
“Well, it was news to me!” I snap, my anger rising. “Experiencing near-murder at the hands of the father I loved wasn’t exactly something I’d prepared for.”
His expression doesn’t change. Not even a hint of softening.
My lips draw back in a snarl. “I thought creatures of the light were supposed to have empathy.”
“A trait you thought to use against me?” he asks.
I catch my tongue. Well, I suppose I did think to appeal to his compassion. But it seems he has none.
Dammit.I’m still getting nowhere.
I shake my head, wondering how I can answer his question in a way that will defuse this situation.
