“The Wyvern Clan helps you, no doubt,” Claire said as she followed Nivera. She hesitated a moment at the stairs but descended them.
The moment she set foot in the cellar, others’ pain washed over her. She blinked and strengthened her shields, fighting to keep her face neutral as she followed the witch into marble room.
What she saw turned her stomach. Rage roared to life in her and Claire gripped her composure tightly. Now was not time for the wrath. However, her eyes darkened and the skin around her cheeks tightened. She took a step back from the bed.
“You disgust me, Nivera,” she hissed.
“I’m afraid the Wyvern Clan does not help at all,” she said after a moment. “They’re savages. They kill the warlocks without question–such a waste.” She continued to comfort the trembling Aaron with a light combing through his dark locks.
When she looked back up at Claire, she noted the tightening around her cheeks and change of temperature in the room. Though she could not feel emotion of others within their aura like the Devereaux witch could, she could sense a shift in the atmosphere.
Her voice was quiet and compassionate as she spoke. “Oh, don’t sympathize with them, Claire. They’re not human and they’re not like us. I’m going to make their lives better, I promise.” She reached out to put a hand on the witch’s shoulder. “It’s our job. ‘To heal and not harm.’ They’ve been harmed, Claire. They’re tainted to the core. I'm healing them. Let me show you. Let me prove it to you."
