Page 41 of Feral Gods

The direct question, delivered with such calm expectation of honesty, breaks something loose inside me.

"You ask what bothers me? The fact that our enemies gather while you and Zephyr explore each other instead of strengthening our defenses.

The fact that you've given yourself to everyone but expect me to focus on strategy as if it doesn't matter. "

Kaia's expression shifts from concern to dawning understanding, then to something harder. "Given myself? As if I'm a possession to be distributed or withheld?"

"That's not what I meant?—"

"It's exactly what you meant." Her voice remains level, but magenta energy begins to shimmer around her fingertips—her emotions affecting her newly awakened magic.

"You're not angry about defenses or enemy movements.

You're angry because you think you have some claim over me that supersedes my own choices. "

Her accuracy slices through my anger, exposing the ugly truth beneath. Before I can formulate a response, Thane steps forward.

"Kaia, perhaps?—"

"No." She holds up a hand, stopping him without taking her eyes from mine. "Ravik needs to hear this. I am not a prize to be won or territory to be claimed. I choose who I share myself with—body, mind, and heart. Those choices are mine alone."

Each word drives deeper than the last. The rational part of me—the commander, the protector—knows she's right. But the primal part, the territorial gargoyle awakened, rebels against her independence.

"You don't understand what you're playing with," I warn, feeling control slipping further with each passing moment. "The bonds you're creating have consequences you can't comprehend."

"Then help me comprehend them," she challenges, stepping closer still. "Explain instead of commanding. Share instead of claiming."

"I don't have Zephyr's words," I growl, frustration building. "His ability to discuss feelings and theories and magical resonance. I protect. I fight. I claim what's mine."

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.

"Stop! Both of you!" Kaia's voice finally penetrates my rage as she rushes toward us, Zephyr right behind her.

I see the danger too late. The ancient ceiling, weakened by our battle, begins to collapse. Massive stone blocks plummet toward the chamber floor—directly over where Kaia stands.

Time slows. Horror replaces rage in an instant. I lunge forward, wings extending to their fullest reach, desperate to shield her from the falling debris. Thane and Zephyr move simultaneously with the same intent.

In the confusion of motion, my outstretched talon catches Kaia's shoulder, the force of my desperate lunge sending her sprawling across the floor. Her head strikes the stone with a sickening sound that stops my heart. She lies motionless as rubble crashes around her still form.

"KAIA!" The name tears from my throat, anguish replacing fury.

Zephyr reaches her first, his magical shield expanding to cover her from the continuing debris.

Thane braces himself beneath a massive stone block, preventing it from crushing all three of them.

And I stand frozen in horror, staring at the thin trickle of blood matting Kaia's dark curls where her head struck the floor.

Blood drawn not by our enemies, but by my own hand.

The realization breaks through every barrier of rage and pride. I stumble forward, falling to my knees beside her still form as Zephyr examines her with gentle hands.

"Is she—" I can't finish the question, terror closing my throat.

"Unconscious, not dead," Zephyr answers, his tone clinically precise despite the chaos around us. "The injury appears superficial, but head wounds are unpredictable."

Relief weakens me further, though guilt immediately rushes in to fill the void. My gaze fixes on the thin scratch along her shoulder where my talon caught her—minimal damage itself, but the cause of her striking her head.

"I did this," I whisper, the admission raw and painful.

Thane, having secured the fallen stone, moves to my side. His hand lands on my shoulder—no longer a threat but steadying support.

"Not intentionally," he says, echoing his earlier words with grim irony.

"Intent matters little compared to outcome." I reach toward Kaia's face, then pull back, suddenly afraid to touch her. "I swore to protect her."

"And you will," Zephyr says, surprisingly gentle as he continues his examination. "But first, help us move her to safety. This chamber remains unstable."

The simple directive—practical, immediate—gives me something to focus on beyond the howling guilt. With infinite care, I gather Kaia's limp form in my arms, cradling her against my chest as I follow Zephyr toward the healing chamber.

She feels impossibly fragile, heartbreakingly human in my monstrous arms. The rage that seemed so overwhelming moments ago has vanished completely, replaced by cold, clarifying horror at what I've become—what I've always been beneath the veneer of civilization.

I lay her gently on the healing altar, stepping back immediately to give Zephyr room to work. My gaze fixes on the small smear of her blood staining my talon. Evidence of my failure. My fundamental unworthiness.

"I'll need clean water and the healing supplies," Zephyr instructs, not looking up from Kaia's still form.

Thane nods, moving toward the storage area. I remain frozen, unable to look away from Kaia's pale face.

"Ravik." Zephyr's voice penetrates my self-loathing. "This doesn't help her."

"What would you have me do?" I ask, voice hollow with despair.

"Secure the sanctuary. Check for structural damage from our... disagreement. Prepare the alternative location we discussed should we need to evacuate." His turquoise eyes meet mine briefly. "Be the commander she needs right now, not the lover she doesn't."

The harsh truth of his words penetrates where gentler approaches might have failed. With a curt nod, I back away from the altar, from Kaia, from the evidence of my disastrous loss of control.

"I'll ensure our security," I manage, already turning toward the door.

"Ravik." Thane's voice stops me at the threshold. "This isn't finished between us."

"No," I agree without turning back. "But it is finished between Kaia and me."

I don't wait for his response, striding out into the corridor with purpose that masks the hollowness spreading through my chest. The rage has burned itself out completely, leaving only cold certainty in its wake.

I am what I've always been—a creature of violence and possession, incapable of the love Kaia deserves. My touch brings only harm. My protection ends in injury. My love manifests as control.

The realization settles into my bones with the weight of inevitable truth as I make my way to the sanctuary's highest point. From here, I can survey our entire defensive perimeter, identify weaknesses, plan contingencies. Focus on what I know—battle, protection, sacrifice.

As the sun climbs toward midday, I make my decision. I will ensure their safety against the coming attack. I will fulfill my duty as commander and protector. And then I will remove myself from Kaia's life before I can cause further harm.

Some monsters, after all, are beyond redemption.