When the Truth Hurts

When Azriel finished, no one said a word. They all just looked at him in silence.

Azriel hadn't spoken to gain their sympathy or approval. He simply wanted to tell them the truth—what had really happened in the Void Realm. But as he met their faces, he realized he might've already said too much.

Or maybe too little.

They had noticed the parts he deliberately avoided, which only made it worse. People were terrifyingly good at imagining things.

"Well, shit. You really are one unlucky prince, aren't you? That god couldn't have tossed you anywhere else except Europe?"

It was, of course, Solomon who broke the silence. His voice was light, but his expression twisted in a mix of displeasure and faint delight.

"Ah, but I suppose if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here like this, would we? I guess I owe the God of Death quite a bit."

Azriel didn't like the way Solomon's eyes gleamed as he spoke, focused solely on him. It made his skin crawl.