~Tristan~
Tearing himself away from Genevieve was one of the hardest tasks he had ever done even though one of those tasks had been coming back from the land of the dead. It was when he heard the Hushed whispers of Allan, he knew he had to go.
Yet Tristan understood the concern. His second in command Allan needed him which meant that Darius required his presence. As he walked to the dungeons, the lowest level of all, he could only hope that by the time he would return and Genevieve would be gone only had scent would remain for him to breathe in.
For a creature like him who did not need air the scent of his beloved was the only source of survival.
"What is i—" he held the grimace in and straightened his facial expressions. The stench was horrifying, making him place his hand in front of his nose. "What in the world is this?!" He grunted out, his voice being muffled by the hand.
