"That would be smart," she murmured, eyes drifting back down to Hermione's leg. Hermione shifted, ignoring the line of fire in her barely healed thigh as she brought her right arm forward, hand coming to rest near her aching ribs. Hela watched the movement, that look of mild amusement replaced with one of stoic determination. Nodding, Hermione leaned in, whispering the only phrase Hela would accept in this moment. A phrase spoken over the burning bodies of fallen Domina members, on the rare occasion they were found and brought back to headquarters. "Salve obscuritas, and goodnight, Hela." Not taking her eyes off the older women, Hermione plunged the dagger she'd transferred into her right hand into Hela's neck, pushing through skin, artery and nerves, until the tip plunged into the hard wood of the door. Hela's eyes remained hard and on Hermione's, jaw clenched tightly before, with a heavy exhalation, her eyes slipped closed.