The room was dark, lit only by the blue light of the monitors. Elijah stood in the shadows, unmoving, his eyes locked on the screen, watching the silent feed from the training floor. 

Verena stood there.

She looked small in that empty room, almost fragile, facing a beast of a man. He was a wall of muscle, three times her size, with hands large enough to crush her skull.

But Verena didn't flinch, she never did. Her eyes were dead, her gaze a dark pit that held no fear or curiosity. She looked at the giant in front of her as if he were a piece of furniture.

The man pulled a long, sharp hunting knife from his belt. Verena’s eyes moved to the blade for a second, before returning to the man’s face. She knew the truth of the situation, she couldn't outrun him in a closed room, and she couldn't match his strength. If he grabbed her, it was over.

Her lips moved as she said something. Elijah couldn’t hear her, but he knew her voice. It was always flat. He had never heard fear in it. Even now, standing in front of a man with a knife, her voice would be the same.