Osiris lay sprawled across the glowing grass like a man who had just been used as a chew toy by fate itself.
His chest heaved.
His hair was a mess.
His cheek was smeared with blood.
His pride was dead.
He stared up in a dazed blur at the misty canopy above him, blinking one eye at a time like each eyelid had to be manually rebooted.
Isabella stood three feet away, hands on hips, toes curled into the moss in pure rage, looking like a goddess in the middle of a divine meltdown.
She didn't speak at first.
She simply inhaled sharply.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Then leaned down so close to his face that their noses almost touched—
—and whispered through violently clenched teeth:
"YOU. STUPID. MOTHERF—"
Glimora pressed her tiny hand over Isabella's mouth.
Isabella pried the hand off slowly, her jaw trembling. She whispered, quieter:
"—you dumb, tall, USELESS, brain-damaged IDIOT!!"
Osiris blinked at her groggily. "…You're… welcome."
Isabella's entire soul stopped.
