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Lucanis is screaming. He’s screaming in their head. Screaming as Spite is forced to move their body. Screaming as they near a broken and battered Kal. Their husband doesn’t move, simply continuing to speak softly in an attempt to get through to Spite. It’s not going to work. Someone’s controlling Spite.
Tears flow down their cheeks as Spite knocks their husband to the ground while a blade finds their hand.
“It’s alright, Spite.” Kal smiles at them despite the blood running down his face. “It’s not your fault. Either of you.” He knocks the blade from their hand, forcing them to change their plan.
Lucanis keeps trying to will Spite to stop, but the magic is too strong. He can’t break free. Spite screams inside, matching his desperation. Their husband is pale from blood loss; he won’t be able to stop them much longer.
Their hands, strong and unharmed, circle his neck as their master laughs. They’ll kill her for this. They promise that much.
Kal smiles at them, mouthing a simple request. There’s just enough leeway for them to lean forward despite being unable to release their grip. He steals their lips as their tears fall to his face.
Kal goes limp. They wail, finally free of that magic. Spite screams for vengeance in their head. Lucanis agrees, launching at the witch with extreme prejudice. They snap her neck before she has a chance to react.
Limping back to their dead husband, they’re left to wonder where they went wrong. It’s all their fault. They got complacent with Kal around. They should have kept up on their training.
“This is our fault…” Lucanis mumbles, broken and depressed. Spite whines in agreement. Falling to their knees at his side, they grab their husband’s hand with tears streaming down their cheeks.
Their hand gets the softest of squeezes.