When those memories flashed in his mind, his heart clenched with agony. Logically, he knew that Alaric was a danger. Instinct demanded that he rip the man apart. But under that rage was a spark of something else… recognition. Pain for pain. Alaric's rage was that of a loser, just as he was.
He knew it too well.
Alaric shivered unconsciously as Zeyrak's intense emerald eyes bore into him. For the first time in a very long time, he experienced a shiver run down his spine, not because of fear of dying, but because he was standing in front of something primal and absolute.
However that moment of vulnerability was quickly engulfed by a tide of fury. His jaw tensed hard, his fists clenched as old wounds ran through his veins like fire. How was it possible that such a formidable beast, a wolf of an emperor had not been able to defend Liliath? How could he continue breathing after having allowed her to die?
