Fearing someone you loved was not logical, nor healthy and Issac did not want to produce that in people. He had enough troubles with thoughts that he did not need that feeling around others nor did he want to produce that feeling. Fear was a form of hatred. Hatred a form of pain. Pain, they all had enough of. He did not need to be there to produce more of it.
Green eyes looked down at the hand on his chest. Khal always had 'no' hands. "Exposure means nothing. Minds cross walls and the shouting continues. I need to give a drink to a gargoyle and find a silver necklace."
His body shook while he sat up. Everything a call back to a stubborn child alone in the world, dropped off by family, and unable to process the magic he could call on. A child who had needed a coven's magic to create the talisman just for him to mostly function.