Astraea's POV
I hated it. Every part of me hated it.
Zephyra had seen me. She had seen everything, starting from the blood to the screams and all the way down to how I had ripped through three demons without hesitation and without any mercy.
Usually, I wouldn't care about getting caught killing someone. I never had before since I was a demon, and killing anyone who crossed me in such a terrible way was pretty much a part of who I was and part of what being me meant.
I had never cared if someone witnessed it, because fear worked just as well as respect, but Zephyra wasn't like the others who had seen me in this state. She wasn't a demon, and she wasn't hardened.
She was human, and as far as I was concerned, humans weren't wired to look murder in the face and carry on like it was normal. They weren't wired to look at someone drenched in blood and still reach for them without flinching.
That thought burned in my chest, heavier than the rain still falling around us.
