The memory of pain from Bianca's hand leeching the power from his core lingered like a scratchy blanket; one he couldn't afford to throw away. It reminded him of what he fought for, and what he stands to lose should he fail. What he'd surely lose should he succeed.
Chris stood at the doorway, his big brother looking curiously up at him from his cot. He remembered all the times he'd secretly orbed in to the baby's room in the middle of the night, blessed athame in hand.
It would be so easy.
That thought used to scare him- for a man who could kill his still innocent baby brother was no better than the Wyatt who crushed the world of his future.
Now remembering Bianca's eyes losing their light, the cold feel of the diamond ring being returned, Chris was no longer scared.
"If I can't save you, I swear to god I'll stop you."