Hadriana had given chase in the Abandoned Slaver Den. Fenris moved silently through labyrinthine passages, relishing the thrill of the hunt. From the shadows, he watched as she caught her breath, hand over breast, eyes darting left and right until she finally decided she was safe. The arrogance was so decidedly her. Unlike Fenris, she would only ever be what the magisters had crafted her into.

The elf stepped into the light, close enough to his prey to see realization spread across her face that she'd never survive an attempt to flee. Seeing no other options, she pleaded for her life, sniveling, bargaining with money, power, information. Fenris shrugged, welcoming her to say her piece, but she delicately insisted on the exchange of knowledge for her freedom.

He gave her his word and earned an outpouring of memories just beyond the edge of his recall. A sister he couldn't envision, now a servant to a magister; not a slave. A ghost of a family he once knew.

Nothing left to offer, Hadriana tried to still a tremble in her lip as the foreboding elf stood over her. Scowling, he replied, "I believe you."

His heart thrummed wildly in his rib cage as it always did in the moments before. With almost erotic release, he plunged his spiked fist deep into the woman's chest and seized the still-beating heart within her, tearing it from its fibrous confines. A wave of euphoria threatened to wash over him, but he tamped it down, lest the rage erupt beyond his control.

Only one death would surpass the satisfaction this one brought. For the briefest of moments, Fenris wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to quell the savage gratification Danarius' extermination would awaken within him.

And he welcomed it.