[???]
"So, hearing all that," Grimm's voice cut through the oppressive air. "Do you have what it takes to fight me? This will be your last chance to surrender."
A tense smile still graced Lilith's face, but even a fool could see it was a farce. Her usual confidence she was now strained—barely holding beneath the weight of what stood before them. Her incandescent blue eyes flicked to Reylthorn.
Her younger brother stood beside her, the deep wound Grimm had carved into his chest had long since mended, yet she could see it—the unease, the guarded way he held himself.
Lilith sighed, her lips pursing. "This is exactly why I didn't want you participating in these festivals," she murmured, the words leaving her like an exhausted whisper. "It was only a matter of time till we ran into someone like him."
Reylthorn scoffed, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off her words. "I don't want to hear you nagging, especially not now," he rebutted. "I can handle myself."
