Morrigan stood in the center of the hallway, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her jaw locked in a hard, jagged line.
Her violet eyes weren't just hateful tonight; they were deadly, tracking the way my robe clung to my sensitized skin and the way my black hair fell in tangled waves over my shoulders.
"What did you do to him?" she hissed, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and something that smelled like genuine fear. "What did you do to my brother, you low-born leech?"
I didn't stop walking. I simply slowed my pace, a slow, predatory grin spreading across my face as I caught the scent of Jerome still lingering on my breath.
"I ate him," I said, my voice a silken, satisfied rasp. "And he was delicious. You really should thank me, Morrigan. I'm sure you've never seen Jerome so… invigorated."
I brushed past her, the charcoal wool of my sleeve catching on her silks. I expected her to lash out, to reach for the blade at her waist, but she stayed rooted to the spot.
