Vadim PoV
Bulgae smirked at Gregory. "Oh? So the cousin of the late queen appears."
Gregory glared at him as he recalled his spear. "Shut it, you sad excuse for a dog."
Bulgae chuckled, the sound thick and wet with malice. "Sad excuse? I tore the heart out of your cousin while you were hunting my underlings in the city. I got my prey while you lot still haven't gotten me."
Gregory's grip on the haft tightened until his knuckles went stark white. Shadows flared along the silver edges of his weapon. A dark yellow aura flared around him, turning his short black hair dark gold and longer. "Shut it already."
"Your family always did love glaring through the dark before they died," Bulgae sneered, crouching low in mid-air as crimson embers rolled off his shoulders. "Let's see if your little tantrum hits harder than hers did."
Gregory didn't waste breath answering.
