It was a face he’d never see again and a voice that would one day all too soon fade completely from his memory.

How he hated change.

For over a hundred years, he’d taken his post at Sanctuary’s door, watching as all manner of beings came and went. A sentinel in more ways than one, he’d let the humans pass without stopping them. But to the preternatural patrons who came here, he always explained the rules of Sanctuary and interrogated them to determine how much of a threat they’d be if they attacked—as well as determine who their allies were.

Just in case.

Now he stood post to make sure their enemies didn’t finish destroying the club they’d only just put back together from the fight that had scarred them all.

I miss you, Maman. He missed his father just as much.

Stuff they could replace. Boards could be nailed back in place and counters remade. Smoke damage repaired.

But his parents…

They were gone forever.

And that made him furious as more grief racked him. It’d taken all of his strength not to go after the lycanthrope pack that had attacked them. If not for the knowledge of it causing the Omegrion—the ruling council for the werebeasts—to hunt down his remaining family and kill them in retaliation, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But that he could never chance. He would not be responsible for the death of a single family member.

Not even his brother Remi.

He’d seen too many of his family killed in front of him….

I really want to leave.