The memories of the forest—of this man standing in the middle of hellhound corpses, grinning—flashed through Sylva's mind. She turned her head to the side, away from his reaching hand, before stepping back.
She spoke, voice sharp. "Everything about me is wrong? You'll be needing my cooperation? You're curious about me? You'll get your answers in time?" Sylva smiled tightly. "Do you even hear yourself when you talk?"
Her expression hardened. "First of all, you didn't save me—you attacked me. And if you hadn't taken me, I would've been perfectly fine. Because from what I could deduce, that forest would have protected me. And since there's a border between your so-called supernatural realm and the human realm, I could have made it back safely. The veil didn't harm me. I would've been found. And Mom—"
Her breath hitched. "Oh no. Mom! Oh my god—Mom!"
