Cade is aware that Beleth is speaking to him, pleading with him, but his adrenaline has ramped up and it's not going back down in a hurry. He lurches to his feet and steps away from her, balling his twitching fists and grinding his teeth. He forces himself into cognizance, and begins to turn towards Beleth when it hits him: the crackle of a magical explosion in the air, the smell of blood and rot and the unnatural sound of stone moving of its own volition, the sick and penetrating aura of red lyrium emanating from his commanding officer. He is about to be killed.
Rooted to the spot, Cade's muscle memory tells him to lift his left arm and shield himself, but when he does so, it's more of a defensive curl, his forearm pressing over his face and his hand knotting in his hair. The other at his side fidgets as though looking for a swordbelt that isn't there, and he breathes heavily, temporarily contained but likely to become undone if anyone should try to touch him.