As the smoke dissipated, Noctus pointed his sword at the Unseelie fae. In that moment I understood why no one had stood up to the elves for so long. He crackled with so much power my whiskers were numb, and the edges of his glass sword glowed with unrestricted magic. He was the pinnacle of supernatural society, and even though I swore I could feel the whispers of death come from him, there was something so painfully beautiful it was hard to breathe. The fae with the ax took a few steps toward Noctus, raising the weapon over his head.
Dude really? You aren't paid enough for that step, or I guess your Queen would kill you if you fail maybe? He'd be a faster death?
