...Luke didn't move.
Even as Violet twisted in the air like a purple-streaked comet, her sword already halfway to cleaving his skull, he stood frozen. Somewhere in his pride-blinded mind, he believed she wouldn't really go through with it. That this was still politics. A performance. An act to intimidate him.
But as the blade closed in, he looked up, and he saw it.
The glint in Violet's eyes. The faint upward curve at the edge of her lips.
It wasn't rage
It was pleasure.
She wanted this. She had waited for it. And now, she was going to take it.
There was no hesitation in her swing. No restraint. Luke's heart skipped, his soul energy was still dormant, and now, his pride was turning into raw panic.
But before the blade could strike—
A flash of golden light burst between them.