Claire could sense Ruthivan's vibrations and knew that the situation was growing perilous. Still, there was nothing she could do. He gripped her arm and shook her, the first time he had ever put a hand on her. She had to admit to them she was under house arrest, that she wasn't allowed, like a child, wasn't allowed to have visitors. Still, Orn and Sanria weren't leaving, not fast enough.
Sanria seemed to get it, and Claire found a bit of relief. "I believe we've been asked to leave, so we should in order to not cause any trouble."
"Do as your mother bids, boy. You can take your sister and her mongrel with you."
"I'm sorry? What?" Orn asked.
No, not this... Claire felt frantic energy as she watched Ruthivan take a step toward Orn. "Your sister and her mongrel that she made with the boy that was intended to be my son. Do I need to speak slower for your comprehension?"
"Mongrel?"
Things were spinning and spiraling out of control and didn't stop until in a flash of light, Ruthivan was in his battle form. He looked like Ifrit, with slight differences, and was stooped into the living room being to tall for its space. Claire knew in a moment, Orn might have a battle to the death on his hands.
Claire found herself shoved roughly out of the way, shocked that Ruthivan had suddenly chosen to get physical. The fear went through her again and she found herself disgusted by her cowardice and the shame that sat on her features.
