Gabriel told Jean-François that his family fell apart after Amélie’s death: Auriél’s grief hardened into fury, Raphael drank more and beat him, and Gabriel shielded Celene as she grew reckless. Gabriel felt something changing inside him—an inner “lion”—even as the forge work made him strong and village girls took notice. He began a clandestine affair with Ilsa, the alderman’s daughter and Père Louis’s niece, despite Auriél’s fierce objections and warnings about a devouring hunger within him.

During a family dinner, Gabriel exploded at Raphael, declaring he was nothing like him. Raphael taunted him as a “little bastard,” hinting at secrets he had kept for fifteen years. When Raphael swung at Gabriel, Gabriel caught the blow and shoved him into the hearth, splitting Raphael’s scalp. The sight and scent of the blood triggered an intense thirst and clarity in Gabriel, which Auriél recognized with dread; she admitted something was inside him and said only someone else might help.

Gabriel sought comfort in Ilsa. One night, when Ilsa revealed it was her moonstime, the scent and idea of blood overwhelmed him. As their passion escalated, Gabriel’s hunger took over; his teeth sharpened, and he bit her, drinking deeply until her weakening plea made him stop. Seeing blood on the sheets and realizing what he had done, Gabriel panicked as the alderman burst in with a dagger. Wounded, Gabriel fled out the window into the snow, marveling at his heightened senses and speed, and wondering if Amélie’s curse lived in him or if he was something else.

Gabriel ran to his mother. Auriél embraced him and promised to make things right, while Raphael and Celene reacted with fear and prayer. When the village—led by the alderman and Père Louis—gathered with weapons and icons, they denounced Gabriel as an abomination. Empowered by the blood he had taken, Gabriel fought back, injuring several men, but the mob dragged him down as Père Louis urged them to subdue him.

Just as Gabriel cursed Père Louis and feared he would share Amélie’s fate, a pistol shot silenced the crowd. Two riders approached on pale horses, marked with silver sevenstars and carrying hunter’s lanterns. The lead rider, a gaunt man with bloodshot eyes, a tricorn, a black greatcoat, and a falcon on his shoulder, identified himself as Frère Greyhand, a Silversaint of San Michon. With a burlap sack bearing a human-shaped weight slung behind him and a younger companion at his side, Greyhand pointed to Gabriel and declared he had come for the boy.