“Why should I?” His voice was a cold tang of poison, disinterested, as if there were more valuable pursuits than a person's life—typical demon vanity and arrogance. Yet, I couldn't argue, lacking the strength to do so, especially when Eldrion’s life hung in the balance, tethered to the whims of the Supreme.
If I were to plead further, to demonstrate my usefulness, perhaps, just perhaps— My eyes smoldered, fingers damp as I rubbed them together beneath the table.
“Is that necessary?” I felt a tear teetering on the edge of my eye. “He is my friend, and I need him alive. What other reason could there be?"
“Vaelin—”
“Don’t, Arucard,” Vaelin said to the male with a snarl. “I do wish to hear her.” He turned to me, ancient, brutal with no hint of rumors.
He probably knows nothing of Eldrion
