Erebus’s dark nebula tail flicked, a shimmer of dark colors that mesmerized almost as easily as a cobra. “I think that we put too much stock in breeding and our bloodlines,” he mused quietly. “We let them define who and what we are supposed to be instead of who we can make ourselves be.” He glanced at himself, his nebula tail and the scales that ran down his sides. “Our relations and relatives should not define who we are nor who we should be.” He lowered his head to look Lenore in the eye. “Who are you supposed to be, Lenore Nightingale?”