Smaller than I thought? Is she trying to make me mad…?
My eyes narrowed as I stared back at her.
Azaila.
Taller than me, her crimson hair spilled behind her like liquid fire. Her eyes deep, vivid red—met mine without hesitation, calm and cruel.
Then, I looked up.
Floating above her, watching me, was the thing I'd sensed earlier.
A god or maybe an angel, depending on who you asked.
Three heads.
The right wore a golden crown.
The left, a smaller silver one.
And the center…
It didn't need a crown. You could feel what it was just by looking.
"And you're weaker than I thought," I said.
She didn't flinch.
I nodded toward the beast above her.
"I know what that is. Your follower. The one watching this world like it's already judged."
I raised my hand, pointing.
"That right head? King of a kingdom. The left? Queen of a realm. But the middle—"
I locked eyes with it.
My Mythrigan pulsed. Pain bloomed behind my temple, but I didn't break. I didn't look away.
