Selyne was angry. This time, it wasn't a cute or childish kind of anger. It was quiet, deep, and cold. It came off her like heat from fire.
Her eyes, usually bright and gentle now had turned into sharp slits of burning crimson.
Azrael understood what was about to happen. He calmly took a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his bruised hand, covering the small bleeding hole left from their last fight. His lip was cut too, and he could taste the warm iron of blood as it slowly dripped from the corner of his mouth. He bit the split skin gently and tucked it under his teeth. He was ready.
'Astrid,' he thought as his eyes stayed fixed on the catgirl, 'you're about to learn something important. Never underestimate anyone. In every story, no matter how strong someone is, there is always another person stronger. In the book, you would have learned this much later. But in reality, you'll learn it right now.'
The ground began to shake.
