Astarte's fingers tightened slightly against Arthur's nape as her words lingered in the air.
"Do you want to die?" Astarte asked in a low voice.
Her killing intent pressed down on him like a mountain. The atmosphere around the dining table thickened until even air felt hard to breathe.
Arthur didn't flinch.
He didn't look back at her.
Instead, he reached for the glass sitting in front of him on the table, lifted it with a steady hand, and took a slow sip.
Inside, his thoughts were screaming.
'Fuck—I almost thought she'd take my head off…' Arthur thought. 'But I can't back off now.'
He set the glass down.
Astarte's voice came again, colder than before.
"Do you even know what a soul bond is," Astarte asked, "to propose something like that, Arthur?"
Her tone sharpened.
"If you wanted to die," Astarte added, "you could have just asked. I would have fulfilled that wish easily."
Arthur kept his gaze forward, refusing to turn his head despite feeling her hand on his neck.
