ALASTOR NYX:
Despite the sudden heat–such an infernal heat it was–he couldn't register it at all over the cold, suffocating presence that was the god of death now making itself known from her blade, washing over him, sucking him in like a black hole.
"...Was it that bad that you wanted to kill me?" Alastor finally dared to ask, distantly surprised that his voice came out calm at the possible face of death.
"I told you to let me go," his mate answered instead, her voice clipped with restrained anger, eyes of black illuminated so prettily against the flames.
"Then how about you let me go, sweetheart?" Alastor pointed out, tilting his head backwards. At the movement, the back of his head landed on one of her arms still wrapped around him. Though her arms were more like a boa rather than a
