Hearing Duke Haborym's explanation, Damian halted abruptly. His stance broke, his body straightening as genuine shock spread across his face. The raging white flames engulfing his hands flickered, then began to dwindle as his mind processed the Duke's words.
For a brief moment, he said nothing.
Then his expression changed.
Instantly, Damian's visage turned murderous. His eyes locked onto Corbin with a chilling intensity, killing intent surging beneath his gaze. If the cathedral merely suppressed his power, it was something he could endure. He could force it out, tear through it with enough effort. But this… this was different.
His power was being stole and fed into someone else.
His already slim chances of survival, which he had been calculating and recalculating in the back of his mind, plummeted instantly. Fifty percent became ten.
"Bastard…" Damian's voice came out low, venomous.
