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He bluntly stared at her, unmoving, his gaze intense and aiming to go straight through her skull. Exactly what kind of creature was this woman in front of him? Who had been so foolish to let in a retarded wolf into Dahlia? In truth, there were not many individuals in Dahlia de Mai that he actually disliked, but he believed this was a good and worthy candidate for such a thing. She seemed like a stupid wuss, a little cunt with no back bone. His lips lifted slightly to hint of the ivory daggers that were hidden behind. His shortened tail lashed through the air one single time, a sign of aggravation from his side. She spoke gibberish. ”And why does it matter, Adelaida?” Her name held a bitter taste, and he knew she would know his cruelty in the future. The demon hissed gently in his ear, talking of the greater good and lack of loss. ”Is it because you know we’re much better than your kind? Because yours is a dying breed, devoured by something stronger?”, the man teased rudely. |
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