116

“You. Are. Weak.”

The dagger went through Layla’s neck like it was butter, but nothing happened. Her head was still on her shoulders, and there was no single scar. It was like nothing had happened.

Draven’s eyes were wide, darting from the dagger to her unsevered head, and her smirk grew wider.

“You are weak, Draven. Despite stealing others powers to add to yours, you still couldn’t get rid of lil’ weak me. It’s such a shame.” She mocked as her glaive lifted off the ground to her hand, and she swung it at him.

He dodged, but not quick enough. The blade cut across his chest from his left shoulder to his side, leaving a large gaping wound.

He stumbled back, pressing his hand to it, and he glowered at her as the red radiating off his body glowed brighter.

“You’re going to regret that!” He snarled at her as the wound slowly closed.

“No, you’re going to regret everything you did to me and all the Children of Hope that have come before Eleanor and me.” She said, pointing her glaive at him,