Sol stood on the ridge, his body draped in the matte-black scales of the Cobra. His face was a mask of cold stone. He watched the betrayal. He watched the final twitches of Kael's body. He watched the Matriarch nudge her boarling, her maternal rage replaced by a terrifying, satisfied calm.
He didn't feel pity for Drogg. If you follow a wolf, you can't be surprised when it eats you. But the sheer efficiency of Vurok's cowardice… it was impressive, in a disgusting way.
But still seeing those grath eating the human bodies, his stomach did a slow, nauseating flip.
Ugh… A hot, bitter surge of bile climbed his throat, and he swallowed hard to keep from retching. His hands, usually so steady now, trembled against the rough bark of the iron-bark tree.
'I did this.'
