How did you run from the devil once you'd caught his eye?
Soran exhaled slowly, controlling the storm inside him.
No, he could not let rage take over. He was not an aggressive hound, lashing out blindly.
He was the one in power.
Calm. Collected. In control.
His fingers twitched as he fought the instinct to break something—or someone. But this was no time for violence. Not yet.
He turned to Xavier.
"Kindly escort our guest back to the estate," Soran said, his voice eerily smooth. "Prepare a grand room for him, and make sure he understands…" His obsidian eyes gleamed in the dim light. "That he is not leaving."
Xavier hesitated.
It was only for a second—a flicker of uncertainty.
But Soran caught it.
His eyes narrowed.
"Is there a problem, Xavier?" he asked, tone sharp as a blade.
Xavier immediately shook his head. "No, Master."
"Good."
Soran turned away, dismissing him. "Now go."
Xavier inclined his head before stepping toward Riven.
"Come," he ordered.
