Roman frowned the moment he heard what Williams said. The expression wasn't just a twitch of his brow, no—his whole face darkened, shadows carving deep into his chiseled features. His piercing eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, studying Williams with a sharp, unnerving calm that could slice through bone.
"Blood magic? You want to dive into dark magic?" Roman asked, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something that sounded like both warning and weariness.
Williams didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his own eyes steady and unrepentant. "Not want to," he said, voice low but steady. "I have already touched it." He confessed.
A hush lingered in the air for a beat as the confession echoed between them.
Roman's eyes flicked over him, studying him like a puzzle. "I knew something was different about you," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Then his gaze locked with Williams again, sharp and demanding. "How much have you touched?"
