“It was…her feeding from you, wasn’t it? That’s why your skin is so cold.” His features tensed. “I told you why my skin is cold. I’m Death.” He had told me that, but that hadn’t really made that much sense to me. Nyktos stared at me for a moment. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, and I thought it did. “I’ll be okay. You, however, may not be.”
