"I leave you two for centuries," the King continued. His voice did not rise. It did not need to. It carried the way earthquakes carry. Through the ground. Through the bones. Through the organs inside the body that vibrate before the mind has time to register danger. "Three centuries. And this is what I return to. My two favourite warrior demons are throwing fists at each other like tavern drunks fighting over a bar tab."
"He got too possessive about a human female," Rafael said, still kneeling.
The King glared at him, and Rafael shut his mouth.
