Alistair, Part 9

Aria stared at the bodies, her eyes wide. Vishnya and her father, Elkin, had been dragged from their bed with their throats slit. Brilliant crimson blood pooled around the wood frame of the bed, and the skin of the corpses had grayed, smelling of death. “Are you alright, my queen?” Daniil of the queensguard asked. … Continue reading Alistair, Part 9

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Weston, Part 2

“Let me see her,” Weston demanded, his voice carrying inside the tent. “What are you so worried about?” Casimir asked. “She’s just sleeping.” “In your tent. I suppose you’ll tell me you didn’t find your hands wandering while you healed her, either.” “She’s sleeping in there because she broke her fucking ankle and she’s exhausted. … Continue reading Weston, Part 2