Damian's question hung in the air like a blade suspended over a neck. His voice carried no anger, no excitement, and no hatred. It was simple curiosity. Somehow, that terrified the Kasok princess far more than open hostility ever could.
"Why do you wield a weapon far beyond your capabilities?" Damian raised a brow as he sat comfortably upon the throne.
His tone remained indifferent, almost bored. It was as though he was discussing the weather instead of interrogating assassins who had crossed worlds to murder him.
The Kasok princess felt her throat tighten.
What the hell was going on here?
"Don't make my darling repeat his words again."
Hazel's voice drifted through the cathedral. All four heads snapped toward the parish entrance.
Bathed beneath the crimson glow of the blood moon, Hazel and Racheal stood side by side at the doorway. Their black jackets hugged their slender yet dangerous figures while their eyes gleamed with undisguised hostility.
