Sylas didn't say anything, but Vaelith felt herself growing more uncomfortable with every passing second.
Honestly, she had been surprised when he chose to leave in the first place, because nothing she had seen of Sylas suggested that he was the sort of person to tolerate someone standing in his way, let alone openly arguing over who would earn the right to kill him.
He was too bold for that, too assured of himself, and the Pride hidden beneath that cold exterior was the boldest, wildest, most unafraid-of-consequences sort she had ever seen.
Sylas simply assumed that the world should move when he told it to. When it didn't, he moved it himself.
That was why Vaelith had found his retreat strange, even if retreat wasn't quite the right word for what he had done. He had simply decided that the Vaulkyn and Draeven weren't worth the interruption, turned his back on them, and continued toward whatever destination had drawn him into the Beast Heaven in the first place.
