"You hate the guys who betrayed him don't you," Isolde stated. "You want them dead for what they did to him. So, do I. Even though it was because of them that I got to meet Oliver, but it's still unpleasant to know that the guys who made him suffer are having fun. I want to punish them. So, what do you say."
Amy's expression hardened. The jealousy was momentarily replaced by the cold rage she felt earlier. "Yes. I want them to pay."
"Though I agreed to team up with you, don't think I'm giving up," she declared, her face flushing pink but her eyes determined. "Just because she's… fast… doesn't mean I've lost. I will take him from you. Remember that."
Isolde laughed—a rich, throaty sound that vibrated in the cool night air. "Oh, I like her. She has spirit. Seraphine was right, Master. You really do collect them."
Oliver groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can we please focus on the dungeon and not my love life?"
"No," both women said in unison.
Oliver sighed, defeated.
