"The Ancient being knows all secrets, my Lord," one of the advisors said carefully. His weathered hands clasped before Lord Elrien, his wrinkled eyes brightening as though he'd just found the solution to Lord Elrien's questions.
"If something confuses you, my lord, perhaps, Imera could shed light on your... particular circumstances." The other demon added.
Elrien went very still.
Imera.
The ancient oracle that had proclaimed him the plague demon centuries ago. Whose words had crumbled a seven-year-old world.
The same ancient creature who never gave knowledge without extracting a price that left scars on the soul.
Elrien's jaw tightened with the score of blood and vengeance he never got to settle with that ancient creature. He decided right this moment that whatever Yuta was, whatever secret his blood carried, he would discover it himself. He wouldn't owe that cursed witch any debts.
As though emerging straight from his thoughts, the scent hit him.
