"So," he laughs. "You really do hope to kill me then?" he asks, a waver to his voice as he scrapes his fingers along his sides, as though they are itching to tear through flesh and blood. "I suppose you have waited to do that for a very long time haven't you?" he chuckles darkly, just as Soren's fingers endeavour to tighten further around his throat, cutting off their air supply with a choking gasp from Azrael.
"I warned you about belittling my wife, Azrael. But if you so desire to talk to her like that I might just have to kill you myself."
Azrael doesn't say anything to that. He merely clenches his jaw just as the eternal flame spurts and grumbles behind him, shooting sparking red flames into the air, dusting the ground with a crimson glow. I lower my eyes.
"Like you would have done differently, Azrael. You have been wanting to kill Soren and I for months, you weaselling little rat," I spit, no empathy to spare in my voice.
