Alaric didn't move. He didn't even breathe. For a long, agonizing moment, he was a statue of ice and iron.
The silence in the room was so absolute that the crackle of a log in the fireplace sounded like a bone snapping. He pulled back just enough to look Julian in the face, his eyes wide, searching the violet corrosion in Julian's eye for some sign that this was a fever dream.
"A fallen god?" Alaric finally asked, the words sounding alien in his mouth. He looked utterly struck, his hands trembling slightly where they held Julian's shoulders.
"He called me by my real name," Julian said, his breath hitching. "Kim Jowoon. He told me he created this world... and that he's going to watch it burn since it was taken from him. Lucien, we can't run. No matter where we go, the demons will find us."
Alaric's jaw tightened, his protective instinct flaring into a desperate, familiar violence.
