CRIMSON DEVOTION

The Tast

of the black cathedral that rose like a skeleton of the past at the edge of the city. Within its dec

at the cent

en D

ystal glass with a casual grace that belied the violence behind his eyes. Not wine. Never win

his lips. A slow sip.

the villain?" he

Lucien didn't bother to look. He had already forgotten their name. Their betrayal, however-unforgivab

id, crouching before them

to free-but to remind. Freedom was an illusion. Especially

ien whispered into the figure

lowed echoed through every stone, a violent pr

paint. His eyes glowed-an unholy gold, bright with v

to the shadows that slithered

lle

it yet, but her

*

ke a caged animal. Her skin was slick with sweat. Her mouth dry. She could still feel the heat of his breath

. It ha

ot into the kitchen. The digital clock blinked 3:00 AM in accusing red. She poured a g

p, Ari," s

ing had shifted in the world, as if a door h

ndow carved from black stone, watching the sky

" he whispere

me had