Xylon's response was ice-cold, an arctic breeze cutting through the charged atmosphere.
He withdrew, creating a perceptible distance between them, as if her words had triggered an instinctive need for self-preservation.
"Your speculative musings hardly interest me, Eva," he retorted, his voice devoid of the slightest warmth.
The storm in his eyes transformed into an impenetrable glacial gaze, shutting out any flicker of vulnerability.
Eva, undeterred by the frigid reception, pressed on, her gaze unwavering.
"Tell me, brother, were we entangled in a web of animosity in our past life? Did I, in some twisted way, contribute to the darkness that festers within you?"
His lips curled into a contemptuous smirk, a manifestation of his disdain for such introspection. "You overestimate your significance," he replied with chilling nonchalance. "Our past is irrelevant,."
