Rage was a cold, bitter pill in Raze's throat. He wanted nothing more than to spin around, grab Harvey by the collar of his expensive coat, and shake him until every last, self-righteous plan rattled out of his head. He wanted to scream at him for the secrecy, the manipulation, the sheer arrogance of believing his methods were the only way.
He's a snake, Raze thought, his hands clenched so tightly the bones of his knuckles turned stark white. A necessary evil, maybe, but a snake nonetheless.
Yet, in the suffocating silence of their clandestine meeting, Raze knew the infuriating truth. Every single, calculated, ruthless action Harvey had taken, every claim that his methods were for the ultimate sake of the Dark Guild and its burgeoning leader, the Dark Magus, seemed horrifyingly, undeniably true. Raze could feel the cold, logical weight of it pressing down on him, and the deep, abiding concern he held for their future was warranted, especially now.
