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Chapter 9 — The Mirror’s Root
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Chapter 11 — The Thorn’s Root
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... en teeth. The courtyard was a nest of soft gasps and trembling shadows — bodies pressed together under drifting mist, the scent of sweat and incense heavy as blood drying on marble.
Ren stood at the center of it all — the cradle’s brand a living flame behind his ribs. Each breath he drew tasted of the Fang’s moan, Serika’s purr, the chorus of masked lovers who’d fed the Tower’s hunger all night.
But above the moans, another sound teased his skull raw.
A crack.
Not ...
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