The demon bent sharply at the waist, his body twisting with unnatural fluidity as Riley's dagger whistled past his hooded head.
The blade cut through the air where his throat had been just a split second ago, and the demon's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
For all his mocking arrogance, he clearly hadn't expected Riley to attack so suddenly, so viciously, without even letting him finish his words.
A faint snarl curled on the demon's lips, displeasure radiating from his face as he straightened, the faint glow of his horns shimmering menacingly beneath the hood.
"That was rude," he said in a low, almost amused tone—but beneath that tone was something else. Irritation. Unease.
But Riley didn't stop. He didn't care for the demon's words, nor did he intend to let him stand there and talk any longer. Words were nothing.
