❝𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗.❞
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( SHADOW AND BONE ━ SEASON TWO )
( BOOK TWO OF THE INFERNAL TRILOGY )
(disclaimer: I do not own SAB. I only own Anya Orya...
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The air in the room was as tense as it was deadly, Kirigan coldly staring down at Anya as the barest rays of light shone through the dark. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" He started, narrowing his eyes. "To you? Yes actually." She quiped before barring her still bloodied teeth at him. "Go fuck yourself." A sharp pain shot through her body like a heavy tug on her muscles, radiating before it subsided, Ivan's cruel face standing behind him. She eyed the dark figures that seemed to circle around the general cautiously, shivers crawling down her spine in a way to warn her that whatever they were was nothing but danger. "Maybe instead of wasting time hurting me, I'd help my wounded first." The raven-haired remarked, titling her head to the tidemaker that leaned against the wall, clutching his nose, the unconsious inferni with severely burned legs and the squaller that was gurgling on her own blood as another etherealki tried to stop the bleeding.
"At least that's what I would do. I cut her carotid artery so how long do you suppose it'll take for her to bleed to death?" she almost hissed, her voice as cold as ice. "10 minutes? Or maybe 6?" The corners of her lips quirked up slightly in a venomous smile as the shadow summoner motioned his head, two healers immediately going to the squaller and other inferni. "And what was the point of that? Taunting me some more like a petulant child?" He snapped. The Oryalen woman laughed loudly at his words before calming down. "God you sounded like Baghra." The dark figures reared closer in a split second, their faceless facades almost right next to her own.
"When you left me on that skiff, you didn't kill me Anya." He said her name in reverie like tone, a cruel smile on his lips. 'Yeah no shit.' She thought to herself as she arched an eyebrow. "I suppose I should thank you. After all, I did get my nichevo'ya." The Darkling said, trying to hide a wince as his scars pulsated with a dark hue, commanding the creatures to stand back with a wave of his hand. "Did I give you those? Or did they? I suppose it doesn't really matter now that we match. But then again, not really." The young grisha woman stated with a matter of factly tone, gesturing with her head towards the three claw marks that cascaded down his face before looking down at the ones on her collarbone, that stretched over her neck and ran over her face.
"Where are they?" The black general demanded with an equally calm tone. But one of his eyes seemed to twitch at her words, as if her words had struck him somehow. "I don't know." She replied, clenching her jaw as she forced her gaze ahead, doing what every soldier was told to do when captured. Keeping her mouth shut. "That's a lie." Ivan simply stated, narrowing his eyes at her. "Tell me where I can find Alina and I will let you live. How many more innocent people need to die for you to realise that you should come and stand by my side?" He whispered as he came closer, something resembling to sympathy in his eyes. The inferni's obsidian eyes drifted towards his onyx ones, something burning within them when she spoke. "If you build a society on corpses, it is only inevitable that it'll rot." There was no anger or malice on her words. It was a threat. It was a promise.
