“Why not just finish this Enyo girl off?” Moros says with a wet hiss, handing me a dagger from the folds of his shroud. The blade on the weapon is formed from some kind of metallic-looking rock shimmering unnaturally in the light and becoming far too dark in the shade.
I rested my forehead against him and whispered, “I will fix you, my Light, but I will also make sure whoever did this is punished.”
“Eurydice was never behind you. It wasn’t real. I wanted to teach you a lesson. We couldn’t, I mean, I couldn’t ever let someone beg me to get a soul back when it’s gone.”
