Uncanny grace of a mayadere

Luna's breath hitched, her eyes pleading. "I... I was wrong," she gasped out, her voice cracking. "I didn't... mean to do it. I swear, Master Tristan!"

Her words were met with a cold silence, punctuated only by the deafening thump of her heart in her chest. Tristan cocked his head slightly to one side, his ice-blue gaze unwavering. Lily's hold on Luna slackened slightly, her eyes flickering to her Master for guidance.

"She's lying," Lily spat out, her features twisting into a sneer. "She's just trying to save her own skin."

But Tristan simply raised his hand, silencing Lily. He moved closer to Luna, crouching down to meet her gaze. His eyes were icy yet held an eerie calm. "Let her go, Lily," he commanded, his voice as cold as a winter's night. "She's of more use to us alive than dead."

"But Master-"

"Do it," Tristan cut her off.