"…Julies?"
Velra's voice was low—tight in a way that immediately put me on edge.
I turned.
She stood near the bed, the restraints around her wrists and ankles clinking softly as she shifted her weight. Her gaze wasn't on me, though. It was fixed on the shattered window, where cold air crept in through jagged glass.
"Come on, hurry up and chase!" she snapped. "Do you really have time to just stand there and stare at me? If I hadn't made that worthless contract, I would've gone after him myself…!"
Her irritation was sharp, raw—far from her usual composed arrogance.
And for some reason, I couldn't look away.
Why was it that Velra, pacing anxiously like a caged beast, kept drawing my attention like this?
"…Velra," I said at last. "I have something to ask you."
She clicked her tongue.
"…Seriously? Now of all times?"
"It's about the Demon King," I continued. "He didn't just attack vampires, did he?"
The moment I said those words, something changed.
Velra froze.
