Meanwhile, Keith still believed in Mystique's capabilities, as one of the strongest witches that dwelled in the lands, she would still be able to get out of the situation rather easily. Even now that she had to cut her ties with the affinity of nature, she could still rely on her life force, in which he was there for her once every month.
But she never retaliated as much as he would've expected as of now.
His head throbbed so much, akin to a cluster of bombs banging for quite some time now, and his body heated up from the crazy emotions that bottled up in him.
Both of them were in front of the mirror, and he had a devious gaze enough to pierce right through her.
Through the dagger, Keith prodded close to Mystique's slender neck, across her fair skin bloomed a trail of blood that coursed through its edge up to the hilt, drop by drop.
"What did you mean—who am I—? What impudence—!"
