The moment Alaric had struck, Zeyrak had burst forth like a tsunami, yearning to tear apart anyone who dared touch their flesh.
But Zevryn was prepared. Even with blood oozing from his broken brow, he gritted with iron will, keeping the wolf at bay with magic. A thin ripple of light flickered across his skin for an instant, an unseen seal containing Zeyrak in.
He understood that if he released Zeyrak, Alaric wouldn't make it. The wolf had been splintered since they'd lost Liliath, incapable of separating friend from enemy. To Zeyrak, Zevryn was the only one deserving of being kept safe. Everyone else… was prey.
No matter how badly Alaric punished him, Zevryn wouldn't let the wolf hurt his brother-in-law.
"My punches won't hurt you, beast!" Alaric cursed, anger coloring his tone. With a snarl, he pushed Zevryn back with all his strength.
