As Nyxara walked across the blood-stained marble floor carrying Alex, the silence between them was pierced only by the sound of distant groans and flickering torches. Then Nyxara spoke, her voice low but firm.
The silence between them lingered like a held breath until Nyxara broke it, her voice low but firm, threaded with lingering worry.
"Alex, I still think you should've killed him."
Alex didn't answer at once. His gaze was unfocused, as though staring through the walls ahead and into something only he could see. "Don't worry, Nyxara," he finally said, his tone calm, but a faint edge rippled beneath it like steel beneath silk. "He won't be a problem anymore."
Nyxara's ears twitched. "You're too calm about this."
