Lucius’s eccentric fabrication of his evil persona didn’t have any teeth. But his sword did. As the cold steel eased its way into her spine, Alyssalee’s legs went numb. Hot blood warmed the chill in her soul, retribution now delivered for her sins.
She wasn’t afraid.
Relief soothed the raw wounds in her soul. The relief that she no longer had to choose between the ones she loved and the innocent souls she harmed.
She could feel the pressure, the sword driving deeper, but there wasn’t any pain. That’s nice, she thought, surrounded by a growing pool of her own blood.
Ready to give in to the growing darkness, Alyssalee heard a scream. Even in the wail, she recognized the gossamer tones. She willed her fading vision to last as the pressure on her spine became insignificant.
Sophie?
At
