"Tell me. Who is your master?"
Rion's voice was low, dangerous, the kind of tone that made the air itself vibrate.
His shadows slithered tighter around the woman's throat, twisting into clawed fingers that dug into her skin.
She gagged violently, her body flailing as her nails scraped at the black wisps choking her, but he didn't falter. His face was cold, carved in stone, crimson eyes glinting like they were forged to burn through lies.
I hated watching it. Her face was blotched red, her eyes bulging from the pressure. The sound of her strangled gasps made my skin crawl. But pity didn't come, not when I thought of the man lying outside in a pool of his own blood. Her husband, or at least the man she called her husband. An innocent life wasted, used as nothing more than bait in a cruel game.
