Human nature was fickle. Very, very fickle. And Darius had been aware of it. He had used it to his advantage more than just a few times.
Fickleness made them predictable.
Greed, guilt, fear, love... those were the winds people bent to, every time.
And Darius? He'd learned how to blow.
How to turn a whisper into a gale. How to twist a breeze into a storm. How to make the wind cut. He had learned it all.
Even when the wind refused to obey, he welcomed it with open arms.
It thrilled him. It gave him the excuse to summon a hurricane instead.
But this...
This wasn't supposed to be one of those moments where he missed on purpose, just to feel the rush of the hunt again.
Because what racked his chest was not the thrill.
Rain lashed against the glass, and it strangely resembled the simmering rage pelting his ribs from the inside out.
It had been five long hours since they'd crossed the river. The lingering warmth of Xion's presence was enough to lull his tired body to sleep.
