"One," Alastor repeats firmly, before giving her a chilling smile. Forcefully, he unhitches her hands from him. "Or do you want to lose this deal?"
Panic bubbles behind Nora's eyes, her throat working as she tries to shove down her rage, but I can see it lingering there, no matter how desperately she tries to hide it. I can practically smell it wafting through the air- a fog of livid despair, bitter and acrid. Frustrated, Nora bites her lip to stem any comments that might lose her this deal, but underneath her skin a vengeful irritation brews like a witches potion. This deal has gone south, and hardly to her favour. Perhaps this is the first time anyone has ever had the nerve to stand up to her- anyone other than Valerian, that is.
A prolonged silence passes between them as I watch with bated breath from inside the shadows. Then finally, she mutters spitefully:
