Jin would never be his father… He wasn't one who looked at his surviving son and saw not grief but utility. Who calculated the political implications of murder before considering the human cost. Who'd already moved on from Jean's death because dwelling on it didn't increase the family's power or position.
Jin remembered Jean's laugh, loud and confident. Jean teaching him to fight, patient even when Jin fumbled. Jean defending him from their father's worst criticism, taking blame for mistakes that weren't his. Jean, who'd been arrogant and entitled and everything a noble heir should be, but who'd also been his brother… And maybe even a better 'father' than his useless, absent true one.
And Jin was going to get justice.
The tiger inside him growled, sensing his resolve.
Or maybe Jin was growling and the tiger was just agreeing.
The line had blurred, smudged by the pills and rage and obsession until Jin couldn't tell which thoughts were human and which were predatory instinct.
