Alya
"Asshole," I hiss under my breath, shaking out my aching hand as I storm back into the hallway.
Every step a dull, pulsing throb radiates from my knuckles to my wrist. I muttered curses to myself, each one a thin tether keeping me from turning right back around and doing it again. Smug, arrogant, self-satisfied bastard. I should've put my boot through his goddamn teeth.
The cold of the corridor met me like a second slap, the air biting against the heat in my skin. I didn't stop to look at the artifacts this time. Didn't care about the gleam of ancient blades or the hollowed sockets of some brittle skull sitting like a warning behind glass. I kept moving, my footsteps echoing too loud against the stone floor.
I veered toward the double doors at the end of the hall, my hand wrapping around one of the tall handles before I gave myself the chance to hesitate. The door gave way with a smooth, soundless pull, and I slipped inside.
