It doesn't take me long to figure it out. As the dagger presses up further against my throat, a cool rush of air brushed over my skin, and a cold, foreign touch. Hairs prickle on the back on my neck as I attempt to glance round behind me, but my efforts are swiftly cut short, quite literally, but the press of a knife.
From across the room, Soren's voice slinks across the darkened air, chilling the room.
"You so much as lay a cut on her throat and I will personally make your demise as grim as your nightmares, I am only warning you once, Azrael."
"Well," Azrael snickers, his eyes still trained on me, flashing a deep ruby red. "Considering you all already plan to kill me, I might as well go out in style."
But the warning must have had some effect, as the pressure against my neck gradually eases, allowing a gasping breath to push through my lungs. Nobody in the room moves.
