Caspian's white-hot eyes dimmed back to a shimmering gold, his head tilting in pure, baffled silence. The Boar Alpha, still pressed into the dirt, let out a wet gasp of hope that sounded more like a choke.
"Don't… kill him?" Caspian repeated the words as if they were a foreign language. He looked at the trembling beast at his feet, then back at Hana. "He called you a hairless bitch, Hana. He tried to take my mountain. He is a traitor. Why should he continue to draw air?"
Hana turned around, the moonlight catching the silver curves of her dress. She looked at the Alpha not as a person, but as a piece of equipment that had just been significantly marked down in price.
"Because dead things don't scrub floors," Hana said flatly. "And they certainly don't haul water or move boulders. You wanted to hire 'servants' to clean your den, Caspian? Well, your brother just delivered the whole tribe of them."
She walked back toward the center of the plateau, her eyes landing on the Alpha.
