Sylene sagged in relief, his chest heaving as the vampire guards rushed to shield Sir Draven—or Sir Melchior, as they called him now. Sylene's gaze wandered, dazed, and caught a glimpse of Isenka being pulled behind his master for protection. How romantic.
To have someone protect him like that… it stirred something small and aching inside him. Sylene can't help but feel jealous...He smiled faintly. But he was the strong one—he had always been the one protecting others. Why'd someone bother to protect the stronger one?
The crowd below was in chaos, people screaming and looking up toward the source of the gunfire.
Then a heavy blow slammed into the side of his head. Pain exploded white behind his eyes, breaking his fragile calm. Ferin grabbed him by the collar, torn his shirt, snarling. His terminal broke from the impact, sharp pieces buried into the side of his face.
"Bastard! You always ruin everything! Now eat this! Eat this!"
