"What the hell are you thanking me for?" Aaron asked in genuine confusion, his voice carrying a faint note of bemused irritation that cut through the chaos like a blade.
Without waiting for an answer, he stabbed his hand straight into the elf queen's chest once more, fingers punching through already-weakened divine armor and radiant flesh with a wet, sickening slide.
The sensation was intimate and grotesque: warm blood welled around his knuckles, her heart fluttering desperately against his palm like a trapped bird.
From his hand, he released a fresh surge of his own dark, transformative blood, forcing it deep into her system.
The liquid felt alive, hungry, spreading through her veins like liquid night.
And cruelly, without even so much as a flicker of hesitation or consideration, Aaron closed his fingers around her heart and crushed it.
The organ burst in a soft, wet pop, golden blood spraying across his forearm in a hot, glittering arc.
