In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth.
He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern.
It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace.
"What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. 
"Nothing,"
.......
"Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?"
"Understood."
"You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling."
"You're dismissed."

The Littlest Light

Feed it. Water it. Tolerate it. Everything else was tomorrow's problem.

'Cept as the kid let the glass fall through his fingers, gasping and choking on a sharp squeal, I wasn't so sure he was going to survive until tomorrow. It shattered with a force that seemed to shake the house, obliterating on impact, shards spraying.

/"Spash,/" he said, wiping his hand across his chest where the milk had attacked him on its way down. /"Star, spash./"

Yup. Certainly hadn't been granted patience. With a snarl, my fist slammed down on the table. /"Splash? Are actually fucking kidding me right now?/"

The effect was instant; eyes doubling in size, he went rigid. And then with a sound that could break glass, the thing started sobbing.

Chapter8