The sea crashed into the shore, same as it always had. Killgore stood atop a familiar cliff, the first place she had been brought upon her arrival. The bays tail flew, kicked up by the coastal winds, a waving signal to her position. Little had changed since she had first come, but what had changed was something quite substantial. What remained of their mate, their lover, the father of their children, was hardly more than a statue. He had been left here, solid iron, and carved into the metal flesh, was an eye. She didn’t know what kind of eye, having previously lived in lands void of all magic, but she knew it meant something. Who or what exactly had done this to him, she wasn’t sure, but she was pissed.

Mostly pissed at him, for leaving, for doing whatever he had done to cause this. Khaos was liked by few, and loved by even less. The possibilities were endless on what could have happened, but no doubt he had brought it on himself. It still didn’t make it okay, but they had no less persevered in his absence. The children thrived, proving to be perfect little beasts. She and Branka had mended their strained relationship, the past had been put behind them. They would need each other to keep the Cove safe from outsiders, and they could not very well do that if they remained at odds with one another. Even she knew this. The Cove was important, and their children were important, that was all that really mattered anymore.

She stood glaring at Khaos, her dark eyes driving into the polished metal. Damn him, she thought. ”Asshole,” she whispered before stepping forward to look over her perch.