Claude pov

“There was a story I loved when I was a child.” My voice cut through the chaos, calm, almost thoughtful. “I remember it too well.”

“Ahhh, my hand! My hand!”

The scream tore through the air. I didn’t even blink.

“Every night,” I continued, as though I was having a normal conversation as the rogue dropped to his knees in front of me, clutching what remained of his arm, his severed hand still twitching in my grip, blood smeared across my face as his eyes locked onto mine in pure terror.

“Without fail, I made the old man read it to me. If he didn’t” I tilted my...