Kapitel 51: The Last Necromancer

Get the fuck up, Merlin! Or I swear I will let Hunger and my slaughter butterflies have you as their dinner!

Black-painted nails dug against the armrests of Crescent's chair. Though calm and devoid of any emotion from her face and collected façade, her anger was reaching its limit within her.

The shadows inside her trembled to the point wherein she could feel the fluttering of her slaughter butterflies that were loitering around the floating island. Cent also felt the distress signal of Hunger, asking her unconscious mind what to do with the being riding him all of a sudden which was not part of the plan.

She knew that Hunger was suppressing his desire to unleash his real form and chew Damon, who was now riding her familiar – leaving the stumbling Merlin without any golem to race.