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... . What is the truth you’ve been choking down?"
Azezal froze. His throat worked, dry, but no sound came.
The elder’s hooded figure drifted nearer, laughter a soft ripple of contempt.
{He won’t tell you. Because his truth is filth. Filthier than his soul .}
Atlas’s eyes burned hotter. His fist twitched.
"Speak. Now."
Azezal’s shoulders shook. At last, he raised his head, eyes glimmering with wet shame and stubborn fire. His tone changed. Becomeing mo ...
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