“Yes. A demon to fight for you.”
“No. A demon to kill you, and everyone you love.”
Hail rolled her eyes. Bryn felt a rage like no other nearly consume him. She never saw the consequences of her actions. She had no idea how many times he had cradled her lifeless body and then reloaded all existence in what seemed to be a hopeless attempt to keep her alive.
“Get out,” he growled under his breath.
“You want to whip me? Fine.” She didn’t really hear him. She was going by the same script as before, the same way so many in New Rahvin did.
“Not again, Hail. You don’t listen to warnings. You don’t pay any mind to pain. I could lash you from now until the frost melts and you’d forget the lesson as soon as the last blow landed.”
“So I’m beyond help, is that it?”
“I have allowed you to be a danger to yourself, but I will not allow you to endanger the whelps.”
“How did I put them in danger?”
“Your spellwork attracts the Dark. I told you never to engage in it here. It’s one thing to try to kill yourself out on the plains, but to do it here…”
She sighed. “These are old wives tales, Bryn. You tell them as if they might hold weight, but I would know if spellwork and potions caused the forces of darkness to descend upon me.”
“You know nothing. You see what you want to see and nothing more. You are already surrounded by darkness, Hail. We all are. It takes very little to bring it down on all of us. You must leave.”
“I must... what?”
“You must leave. You will get everybody killed. It is obvious that I have no control over you. You are grown. You have the right to choose your own path. But you will not choose it here. If you wish to remain beneath this roof, you will obey me. But you will not obey me. You’ve proved that a hundred times if you have proved it once.”
Hail
He was casting her out.
Bryn never cast anybody out. Not ever. The whelps who grew up as lyrakins quite often went out on their own in the world, but they were never made to. If they wanted to stay and contribute to the den, they would be allowed to. It was encouraged. For reasons best known to himself, Bryn always seemed to have a different set of rules when it came to her.
“I always knew this day would come, Bryn. I didn’t think it would come this soon. But I guess really you’ve given me years longer than you likely wanted. I’ve been a pain since the day I came, haven’t I.”
Bryn sighed, putting his head in his hand for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave, but if you will not obey the laws of the lyrakin…”
“Your rules, you mean. Your rules that you only follow when they suit you.”
She sounded petulant, but she knew she was right, because she knew Bryn’s secret. He had more magic in him than her entire ancestral tree put together. He thought nobody knew, but she had done nothing but look up to him since she was orphaned. She knew more about Bryn than anybody in existence. And she knew more about magic than anybody else in the den. Once you knew magic, you could see it in people. She saw it in him. It crackled off him, and it flared whenever he was annoyed, which he was now, of course.
“You don’t understand how dangerous your magic is. You don’t know what it draws. You have the precise amount of understanding to be dangerous to everybody around you, and no more.”
“Then tell me. Teach me. I know you could.”
“I’ve taught you all you need to know. I’ve taught you how to stay out of sight and take what you need. I’ve taught you how to look after others, and value the family you’ve made. I’ve taught you to sneak, and to fight, and to hide. You need nothing more than what you already have.”
“Then I will leave, Bryn.” She rose to her feet. “I will leave this minute with what I have. You can keep your whelps safe in the den until they find themselves drawn by their own capabilities and destinies.”
“Hail, stay the night. We will speak again in the morning.”
It was her turn now to demonstrate pure resolve. “We have spoken many times, Bryn, and not one of those times have we ever come to anything remotely resembling an accord. You know I have to go, and you are right to tell me to leave.”
Bryn stood there, thumbing his chin. “I’ll admit, you’ve surprised me.”
“And how have I surprised you?”
“I thought you’d throw a tantrum, lass.
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she said, keeping her temper only by the barest of threads.