Calmer now, Macklyn found himself looking at the head. His heart aching. It was not Eric, but it was Eric. He had acted rashly, out of instinct. The violence overtaking him, the darkness inside himself winning. But he could not let harm come to his mate, he could not.
His mind went back to when he'd killed Inque for doing much the same. Two brutal deaths on his hands, both to keep Eric safe. This one, though, was much worse.
Macklyn very carefully set the head down on the roof, unsure of what else could be done with it. Tears were already stinging his eyes. His intent was to turn to his mate to provide some comfort, but the glance in the direction of the bird and Bran's own attention to it broke that action off before it really began.
The bird.
He had not meant to harm the bird. And the bird being harmed meant that the phantom was well and truly dead. Macklyn made his way over to the pair of crows, bigger than any living crow ever would be. He knelt, cradling its head gently.
"Eric, I cannot let it die." He turned to his mate, the tears falling down his cheeks. He already felt a worm in his gut about killing the phantom. He knew it would only get worse if the bird died as well.