He regretted it instantly when he saw the shock cross her features and the distrust flood her eyes. She closed her mouth, her jaw going tight, and tears rolled down her stoic face. It looked as though she was daring him to do it again, defiant.
Ruthivan held his breath for a moment then narrowed his eyes. "Get yourself together," he hissed, holding a finger in her face. "I knew you would do it," she whispered. "It was only a question of when." "Shut up," he spat. "You made me lash out, you and those humans, including the one that took our son." "Whatever we may have had, whatever might have been, it is gone. I will not rest until I have absolved myself of you." "Well," he said with a sneer, "you're going to have a long time to wait, Claire. You are bonded to me and belong with and to me. So straighten yourself up, or I'll straighten you myself."
He walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. He left the living room and paced in the woods beyond. He slammed his fist into a tree, crunching his bones and magically healing them. She made him so hateful and angry... it was her fault. In his mind, the realization that she would never love him filled his senses and drove him mad. He looked skyward and let out a howl of rage. It drifted through the woods to be absorbed by the trees that ruffled their leaves in repeated whispers to dissipate the pity and hate they were forced to absorb.
