Page 69 of Feral Gods
The last words escape before I can stop them. Kaia's expression hardens further.
"I am not yours," she says, each word precise as a blade strike. "I am my own."
Something in me snaps—the final thread of control severed by her denial. With a roar that shakes dust from the ceiling, I slam my fist into the stone table, shattering it into fragments. Maps and markers scatter across the floor as I round on her, wings fully extended in threatening display.
"You wear my scent," I snarl, advancing on her. "You accepted my claim."
Instead of retreating, Kaia stands her ground, magenta energy now visibly crackling around her hands. "I shared myself with you. There's a difference."
Thane and Zephyr move simultaneously, positioning themselves to intercept me if necessary. Their defensive postures only feed my rage—my brothers-in-arms, now standing against me.
"Stay out of this," I warn them, never taking my eyes from Kaia.
"Not if you threaten her," Thane replies, his own wings extending.
"I would never—" I begin, then stop as I realize how my actions must appear. I'm advancing on a human woman a fraction of my size, wings and talons extended in clear threat display. Horror begins to penetrate the haze of possessive rage.
But it's too late to defuse the situation. Zephyr moves to Kaia's side, one hand extended in a warding gesture that glows with protective magic.
"Your emotions compromise your judgment, Ravik," he says, his scholarly tone somehow more infuriating than Thane's direct challenge. "Perhaps you should withdraw until you've regained control."
"Do not presume to give me orders," I snarl, redirecting my rage toward him. "You, who spent centuries in books while I led our forces in battle. You, who now think a few nights in her bed grants you authority."
Zephyr's expression remains impassive, though his eyes harden slightly. "My concern is for all our wellbeing—yours included."
"Your concern," I mock, stepping closer, "is for your own interests. Your position with her."
Thane interposes himself between us, crimson eyes locked on mine. "Stand down, Ravik. This isn't you."
"You don't know what I am," I growl, the rage now consuming all rational thought. "None of you do."
"I know you're better than this," Thane insists. "The commander I followed would never let jealousy cloud his judgment when lives hang in the balance."
His words should reach me. In another moment, they might have. But as he speaks, I catch sight of Zephyr's hand again coming to rest on Kaia's shoulder—protective, intimate—and something primal overrides all reason.
I launch myself at Zephyr with a roar that reverberates through the chamber. He barely has time to shove Kaia aside before I collide with him, driving him backward into the stone wall with enough force to crack the ancient masonry.
"Ravik, stop!" Kaia's voice penetrates the rage, but too faintly to override it.
Zephyr makes no move to counter-attack, using his forearms only to block my strikes. His restraint infuriates me further. I seize him by the throat, lifting his lighter form from the ground.
"Fight back," I snarl, wanting—needing—some justification for the violence consuming me.
"No." His voice remains calm despite my grip on his throat. "I won't give you the battle you're seeking."
Before I can respond, Thane crashes into me from the side, breaking my hold on Zephyr. We tumble across the chamber in a tangle of wings and limbs, each impact shaking the entire sanctuary.
"Enough!" Thane roars, using his superior bulk to pin me momentarily.
I twist free, centuries of combat experience guiding my movements even through the haze of rage. We separate, circling each other like predators, the primal nature of our gargoyle forms fully ascendant now.
"This isn't about Zephyr," Thane says, maintaining his defensive posture. "Or Kaia. This is about you—your fear of losing control."
"You know nothing," I spit, looking for an opening in his guard.
"I know you're terrified," he counters, matching my movements. "Not of enemies or death, but of feeling. Of caring for someone you might lose. Of sharing something you can't control."
His insight cuts too close to bone. With another roar, I charge him, driving us both across the chamber and into the far wall. Stone cracks and crumbles around us as we grapple, strength against strength. Neither of us notices the supporting column fracturing under the impact—not until the ominous rumble of shifting stone above our heads.
