Raziel was in his room but he couldn't sleep with the parasite beating inside his chest.
His eyes were glued to the ceiling when the silhouette entered.
The smell of blood came first.
Raziel sat up instantly and his hand sought the dagger under the pillow.
"Relax, it's me."
Arawn Rivers closed the door with his foot.
The moonlight coming through the window hit his face and Raziel felt his stomach turn.
He had blood on his hands, on his forearms, splashed on the collar of the scribe uniform that wasn't fooling anyone anymore.
His blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and something darker.
"Whose blood is that?" Raziel asked.
"Marius'. Mostly."
Raziel gripped the dagger tighter.
"Did you kill him?"
"No." Arawn let himself fall against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor.
He flexed his fingers and his joints cracked. "He's alive, well broken, but alive and I need him like that."
