Winter’s blood grew cold. She couldn’t…she couldn’t think what she was thinking. It couldn’t be true. He was Azriel. A Mage. He was Azriel, her Azriel. He couldn’t be anyone else. “Is that what you have been doing all this time? Trying to figure out how we’d kill you?” It was Miriam who had asked. “You gave your word that you’d look for a reason to stop your plague!” His plague. Death’s plague. His plague. Azriel’s.
