His toes were likely already smashed to pieces, but that didn't stop Beau from kicking the post three more times for good measure. He could hardly bring this aggression into the home he and his wife shared — into their bed. Odina was lucky he hadn't turned to such a blind rage in her presence, lest her son (not his, she decided, never his) become motherless within minutes. The Native was an excellent user of tribal and wandless magic, but Beau was fast and talented at dueling himself. She didn't care him.

"What was the fucking point?" He asked more to the universe than to his wife. That she was teary and sniffling barely registered in his brain, his thoughts too preoccupied with the argument from minutes before. "None. There was none. She just wished to taunt me with it like the evil bitch she is. I don't know what I ever saw in her."