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    Summary

    Bane laughed and waved a hand, gesturing at his—at Enver’s—body. “Fret not. Gortash is here, aware, unharmed. I know how fond of each other you are.”

    His smiled turned into a leer, and his eyes glittered with malice as he watched for her reaction. Elegy made the slightest shrug and said, “Hmm.”

    “Or perhaps he is fonder of you than you are of him,” Bane said. The thought amused him greatly.

    Elegy slowly pulled off one glove and tossed it on top of her cloak, and he followed the movement with his eyes. “Can you blame him?”
    ---
    Elegy, the Dark Urge, seeks out her ally, Enver Gortash, and finds his god waiting for her instead.

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