That same night the cavern was silent save for the occasional distant drip of water, the faint rustle of shifting fabric as Malzahir stirred in his sleep, and the steady rhythm of Kain's own breathing.
He watched Malzahir's still form carefully, ensuring there was no sign of resistance. There wouldn't be. Bea's threads had already burrowed deep into his mind, latching onto his mind with a vice grip, ensuring that he wouldn't wake up for what was about to happen next. Without the bond of a beast tamer, Malzahir had no defense against it. No instincts to warn him. No passive resistance to fight it off.
It was an unsettling vulnerability.
