The voices inside my head were not the whispers of ghosts. They were alive, pulsing with a deafening savagery.
I gripped the marble sink in front of me until my knuckles turned white. My mismatched eyes—one reddish gold, the other silver-blue—stared blankly at my reflection.
“Burn their bodies until not a single speck of ash remains.” That was Aurevian's voice. Deep and heavy with military authority, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones and roaring flames somewhere outside.
“This blood... tastes bland. Nothing like hers.” Theron's growl echoed at the base of my skull, followed by the brutal sound of flesh being torn apart.
I clamped both hands over my ears and sank to the ice-cold bathroom floor. But it was useless. You couldn't shut out a sound that came from your own blood. My
