"A blade forged from your very soul,"
Drakovitch continued.
"Come then, Gin. Show me if that 'Witchblade' can pierce my already dead... heart."
Gin's mind fractured for a heartbeat. The memory of her brother's disgust, the way he had looked at her crystalline arms as if they were a blight on the Gigante name—clashed violently with the look in the Dragon King's silver eyes. He wasn't looking at a monster. He was looking at a masterpiece.
Then, she snapped.
"Shut up! I don't need your praise! This isn't for you! This is for me! For my father! This is so I can finally walk into the Gigante realm… AGAIN!"
She lunged.
