"What am I to do?" Lena asked, her gaze fixed on the Priestess, who struggled to kneel before her.
The Priestess had aged terribly, yet her visions remained sharp and clear, unclouded by time.
"Attempt to connect with him, while I commune with the spirit," came the Priestess’s raspy command.
Without protest, the Priestess clasped her hands together, her eyes closed as she began a low, rhythmic chant.
Lena moved to a seat beside them.
"They say you must lie with me, that through this, he may regain control," Craven remarked with a smirk that sent a chill down her spine.
"In your dreams," Lena retorted sharply. "You’d do well to return to your slumber and allow him to take the reins. I will do no such thing."
"Beloved," Craven’s voice softened, the smirk fading into something more ea
