Velra studied me closely. Her wings, half-unfurled, twitched as though sensing the tension crackling between us.
The smirk she so often wore had vanished, replaced by a loaded silence—and a flicker in her crimson eyes that was hard to read.
"You really are insane," she finally said, her voice quiet, almost contemplative.
"Maybe," I said with a shrug. "But I don't care, as long as I get to learn it."
She narrowed her eyes. "But I care."
"Oh?" I raised a brow. "Didn't know you were so emotionally invested."
"Of course I am! If you die, who's going to bring me this blood? My recovery will be delayed!"
Right. There it was.
I sighed inwardly. Expecting emotional depth from a demonkin was my mistake.
Still, if she was going to be that blunt, then I'd answer in kind.
I slid the blood-filled jar closer to me, eyes steady. "Well, if the other party isn't interested in a fair deal, then the trade's off."
"Trade?"
