There was more, however, something far more unsettling. Raziel, Ordan, and the other Marquis weren't truly dead.
They were nothing more than fragments of will residing within his mind, being exploited by the fragments. As long as they remained within this world, unabsorbed by him, they would continue to exist.
He had also pressed her on her identity once more, only to be met with the same firm, unyielding response…
"Clarification shall not be given freely."
Atticus let out a slow breath, leaning his back against the wall as he considered his next move.
The woman had done enough to prove she wasn't an enemy, but it continued to bother him that he still didn't know what, or who, she truly was.
'Is she some Ravenstein ancestor, come to teach me about my bloodline or something?'
