"Let me understand this…" Dean said, gripping the chocolate mug and closing his eyes for a moment. "You left in the morning as usual and returned as the king of beasts? Theo inherited it… I was right; you have wildlife eyes."
Arion, who was sitting at the opposite end of the sofa with Theodore tucked comfortably against his chest, stared at him.
"I am not the king of beasts."
"The infected call you their king."
"Elias said that was an imperfect translation."
Dean opened his eyes.
"He offered controller, leader, anchor, and king, and somehow you think one of those sounds less concerning?"
Arion looked down when Theo shifted beneath the soft grey blanket, one tiny hand emerging near the open collar of his father's shirt before settling there.
"Anchor is relatively harmless."
