Kingdom of Ash

truly was a fool. But he wanted to see him.
Had to see him, this creature who had ruined
so many things. Who stood poised to devour
their world.
He had to look at him, this thing who had
ordered him enslaved, who had butchered
Sorscha. And if he was fortunate—maybe
he’d kill him.
He could remain in this form and strike.
But it would be so much more satisfying to
return to his own body, to draw Damaris, and
end him. To let Erawan see the pale band
around his throat and know who killed him,
that he hadn’t broken him yet.
And then Dorian would find that key.
The silence showed him the way, perhaps
more so than the mental map he’d memorized.
Halls emptied out. The air became thick,
cold. As if Erawan’s corruption leaked from
him.