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slaughtered by these things, their cruelty.
“I can make a bargain with you, you
know,” Cyrene whispered. “When the time
comes, I will make sure you are spared.”
Damaris went colder than ice.
Dorian met her stare. Withdrew his magic,
and could have sworn that seed of shape-
shifting power trapped within her reached for
him. Tried to beg him not to go.
He smiled at the spider. She smiled back.
And then he struck.
Invisible hands wrapped around her neck
and twisted. Right as his magic plunged into
her navel, into where the stolen seed of human
magic resided, and wrapped around it.
He held on, a baby bird in his hands, as the
spider died. Studied the magic, every facet of
it, before it seemed to sigh in relief and fade
into the wind, free at last.
Cyrene slumped to the ground, eyes