Damon didn't need to look to know those fools would die soon — but still, he watched.
He wanted to see how the so-called boogeymen of an underworld group would fare against his shadow… in the same rank.
He did not have high hopes. For them.
Matia moved forward, her eyes holding that same unshaken resolve.
Damon knew she was still in there… but watching her fight like this always left him doubting himself.
She was his shadow now.
Bound.
Obedient.
Yet fighting with her own will.
Her wings spread. And before Damon — or the two Charkata family members — could react… there was a winter.
Buildings froze under sheets of ice and snow. The air thickened, time seemed to crawl beneath the weight of her freezing power… and then — she vanished.
No.
She moved so fast it only felt like she did.
The beastkin barely reacted in time, his spear jerking up purely on instinct.
What collided with it wasn't her weapon — it was her fist.
