"Lyla and I knew this would be the punishment for her crimes," Valerian explains grimly, his fingers pattering against the chipping tea cup. Despite the indifference in his tone, there is a certain air of agitation around him as he talks about his father and about the punishment of the angels, as though he has a good mind to give them a taste of their own medicine. It would seem that out of all the crimes that these unholy creatures have committed, their lust for grim mortal punishment is the one Valerian detests the most. These are the creatures who have the ability to change entire realms, the power to forge souls and abominations from the ashes of ruined lives. Their dictatorial power is nothing short of terrifying.
Which is exactly why it needs to stop.
As these thoughts flow through my mind, his knuckles fade to white as they clench harder around the cup, his aura flaring a violent lilac behind him.
