Marcellus' POV
*****
The violet flames burned brighter with each breath Odessa took, and for the first time in a long time, Marcellus felt the weight of something foreign press against his chest.
Fear.
It didn't make sense.
He had fought wars, slain monsters in the dark, stolen power from witches, wolves and even humans. He had clawed his way up from nothing, reforged himself in stolen blood and forbidden magic.
Fear was not a language he spoke anymore.
And yet, when her eyes glowed with that impossible violet light, he understood in his bones that she was far from the powerless witch everyone mocked.
She was something more.
And that made her dangerous.
Marcellus spat to the side, licking his lips like a man savouring the taste of battle.
