Luke and I locked in a silent gaze, our souls mere inches apart. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, his hands gripping my arms with otherworldly strength. Hands that, if the things I had seen were true, had ended almost as many lives as I had.
The realization made me squirm, desperate to break free, away from this man who could overpower and hurt me but with a thought. But my struggles were futile. My physical weakness seemed to translate into this ethereal realm. After a long moment, I surrendered, going limp in his grasp.
"I-I'm so sorry," I stammered, "I should have prepared you for the nature of the soul space, or at least—"
He shook his head, his grip on my arms tightening, a surprising sensation in this ethereal realm. "I don't give a damn about that. I know my own demons. But I saw you, Xiviyah."
