Draven's golden armor suddenly appeared, full of power. He stood between Seraph and Silas. He was ready to fight to his limits, even if it would cost him his life.
But Silas didn't try to move at all. She just watched him, with her head turned to one side. Her face was calm and focused, studying him closely. Draven felt the pressure of that gaze, and it unsettled him more than any direct attack ever could.
"My purpose here is not to eliminate you," Silas said. Her voice was flat and fake, like a robot talking. "Not yet, at least."
"Then why are you here?" Seraph asked. She kept her hand firmly on Draven's arm, holding him back. Her mind was working fast, trying to understand the logic of this strange situation. A situation that seemed like a trap but didn't actually attack, with no immediate threat, made no sense at all. Every instinct screamed danger, but nothing matched the pattern she had learned to recognize.
