Hades
Jules lay panting on the ground, her hand around her neck trying to soothe her bruisd throat. She hacked cough after after cough but her gaze never strayed from mine. Tears welled in her eyes, the wildness that mirrored my rage gleaming in them. She looked broken.
Slowly, unnervingly, that feral rage dulled, receding behind a curtain of cold calculation. Her expression smoothed into something unreadable, a blank canvas void of fury or pain.
And then, finally she moved.
Deliberate and slow, Jules pushed herself up from the ground, the tremble in her limbs barely noticeable. Her movements were steady now, precise, as though every action had been rehearsed a thousand times in her mind.
Kael's hand still hovered near his gun filled with silver bullets, his body taut with coiled energy, ready to strike if she made a single wrong move. His sharp gaze pinned her, yet Jules didn't flinch.
Instead, she turned toward him.
