Reanimation risked that metamorphosis. Tethering both body and soul to a necromancer meant that even the purest souls could become too corrupted to ever ascend unless they were freed with sacred fire.
Helena couldn’t help but peer into the maid’s face, looking for any sign that there might be a soul still inside, slowly decaying, trapped in a state of neither life nor death. The maid’s gaze was empty. If there was any trace of her soul, it was smothered beneath Ferron’s will.
She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”
Ferron left as the maid finished withHelena’s slippers, and Helena immediately stood, refusing to let the corpse touch her further.
The maid headed inside. The instant her back was turned, Helena snatched up Ferron’s discard
