Aysling had glanced down to speak to her mate, her face glowing with happiness—until it froze in shock.

There, standing at the base of the column, was that thing, the deformed “man,” his body peeling and scorched, his face twisted with unimaginable hatred.

His eyes—if they could still be called that—were no longer human. They were hollow voids filled with nothing but death.

She saw it unfold almost in slow motion.

He raised a golden whip, snapping it through the air with a loud crack, the encha