Chapter 207 Cerys

• The marble beneath my feet felt cold, slick with blood, yet I stood rooted as she drifted closer, her perfume overwhelming now, cloying as rot-sweet fruit.
• “I hate you, Narine,” she hissed, almost tenderly. “For no reason. Just because every time I look at you, I see the life I was told I could never have. And I want to rip it from you. Strip the glow, the crown, and the whispers of destiny. Leave you nothing but a husk.”
• I forced a breath, tasting her venom in the air. “Then come and try,” I whispered. “But know this, Cerys, whatever’s in me now doesn’t scare half as much as what you’ve become.”