Ashes of Midnight
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- Parts 1
"You are not one of the dead," she whispered.
"No," it purred. The voice lingered in her chest like smoke. I am older. Stronger. Hungrier.
The shadows shifted closer. For the first time, she glimpsed an outline, shoulders like armor, a face hidden in obscurity save for two faint embers where eyes should be. When he leaned in, her breath stuttered.
Do you fear me, Aveline Mortua?
Her lips parted, words caught between defiance and truth. She wanted to say yes, wanted to scream it, but the sound tangled with something else rising in her throat, something she did not want to name.
He chuckled softly, hearing her silence as clearly as words. Fear and desire wear the same face, niña oscura.
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