Head still ringing from her siren call Currian’s eyes narrow as he absentmindedly taps his cheekbone with nails sharper than any earthly made blade. Wrapped in shadow he watches the abomination’s constant ministrations to a russet haired human covered in a thick blanket of sickness, suffering and her failure.
She whispers, “Hold on my love, his blood binds him to come.”
Currian bares sharp teeth, what she says is true. His father’s foolishness led him to breed with the abomination’s Were touched ancestors but he didn’t render his Fae offspring entirely helpless and left safeguards, weak as they were. Only men, never women of the Luiveno family were taught the Loche, Fae sorcery and each had to choose between Were or Loche for no man was strong enough to encompass both aspects.
His father must have known that eventually another father’s love would lead to this abomination and knowing his father no fool, Currian’s eyes brighten. His father forged a weapon to wield against the mewling humans. A tool to set their nerves screaming while shredding their souls and ripping out their throats, their blood running but never dying. A true Reaper, bred to free the world of humans without magic, to lift the Fae banishment.
Only in a magical world will you return.
Currian drops his cloak of shadows.
“What you have tried can only be undone. He can live but only human,” he says.
“The price?” she asks.
“A little thing you will hardly miss, already fading.”
She nods once though she knows deals with the Fae perch on the peak of recklessness.
He slices the skin and bone of her temple effortlessly and reaches in pulling out a silver thread that he slowing winds around his finger. A piece of another deal. She doesn’t see her black eyes darken even further or the bones of her elegant lady hands elongate or black claws grow. She doesn’t see how sinister she now is, how beautiful.