Serein's face grew steadily paler, though she could not tell whether it was the lack of air or the horrifying possibilities that had begun to flare through her mind. Perhaps it was both.
Once again, as if he could stroll through the corridors of her thoughts, Deimos let out a faint, indifferent laugh. He flicked his hand and the black smoke loosened its chokehold on her, then pulled her backward to place a distance between them.
This time his smile contained no mockery and no sense of superiority. There was instead a flicker of something else, something strangely akin to solitude, so faint she had to narrow her eyes to confirm it. Yet he had already turned his back and walked toward the phonograph. Whatever emotion had lingered in his wine-red eyes slipped away before she could grasp it.
