“No!” The cloaked woman growled and shot to her feet, the hood she wore slipping back to reveal the most grotesque deformities Zevander had ever seen, as if plucked from the most terrifying nightmares. Deep scars, far worse than his own, crossed her face over ruined lips. The other eye he hadn’t been able to see in the depths of her hood stared back as an obsidian orb, as if it’d been stained by ink. “He is mine! You swore that he would remain with me!”
