The moment the hammer fell, Xavier leaned back in his chair, but his eyes were still locked on the fading hologram of the fragment like it might vanish forever if he blinked. His fingers drummed restlessly on the armrest, every nerve in him screaming to move.
"Fuck it," he muttered, half to himself, half to the others. "I can't let that bastard just walk out with it. We can still—"
Angel's voice cut in sharp, calm as a blade. "No."
Xavier turned, brow arched. "What do you mean 'no'?"
She didn't flinch. "You're in the Underworld's house, Xavier. Their jurisdiction. Their rules. You make one wrong move here, and it won't just be you—everyone tied to you is finished. They'll cut you down before you even reach the exit."
Lyra raised a brow, smirking faintly. "She's right, y'know. I'd rather not get turned into wolf stew because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants for some shiny crystal."
