Chapter Twenty-Seven
DamagesBray crouched low, stalking almost silently as he emerged through the portal into the tower. He did not understand the implications of being able to gain entry, only the hunger. His nostrils flared as his senses were assaulted by the sweet scent of liquid ambrosia. Part of him knew he should be feeling something else at this moment.
There were two food sources within the room, but only one he craved. It lay upon an altar like an offering, and the slow retreat of the secondary figure suggested it was just that. Bray's tongue traced his lips as his mouth flooded with saliva. He knew it was wrong. The part of him that recognised her fought to regain control from the frenzy. He should have been able to do so, he had been told as much, and had been certain he coul
