Hers would be one of the brightest, rejuvenating the demons who passed by and making flowers bloom in its wake. It would be nice to see that soul floating about, but the Calladia left behind on Earth wouldn’t be the one goggling at him now. Her combativeness and passion would fade, leaving an emotionless echo of the vibrant woman she’d been. She’d walk, talk, and act like a human being, but a crucial part would be missing. That shouldn’t bother Astaroth. An ache started behind his sternum, and he rubbed his chest. Why did that bother him?
