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