Click.
The sharp, metallic hiss of steel leaving its sheath sliced through the air like a warning bell.
Nova turned her head slowly, her lips curling into a smile that was anything but warm. Cold, bloodthirsty her expression sent a chill into the bones of anyone who happened to glimpse it. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, reflected the sword in her hand as though the blade itself had been waiting for this exact moment.
Across from her, Marcella did not intervene this time. She merely stood with a calm smile playing at her lips, though her eyes betrayed a strange glimmer, a flash of light that flickered behind them. She already knew. She had already presumed what was about to happen.
Her silence was permission enough.
And that was all Nova needed.
