Shadows Rising (World of Warcraft, #17)

by Madeleine Roux

Flynn made a clicking sound with his cheek and stared at the bottle for a long moment. “She’s dead. Hanged for being a thief. I think that was the day I stopped being a stupid little boy. I made myself go and watch, I remember being so small I could barely see anything in the crowd.” He laughed bitterly at the memory, then gazed out the curved windows that showed the darkened sea. He kicked his feet up on the table, boots scuffed and salt-stained. “I remember the sound most of all. Everyone but me knew when it was coming, and then there was a breath in, everyone all together, and then…” He squeezed his eyes shut, and Mathias held his wine midway between mouth and table, transfixed. And then? “And then a crunch, like a hammer striking wet gravel. I thought I would hear her scream or cry out for me, but no, just the breath in and then the end.”

Mathias had never observed the other man from this distance. He hadn’t noticed that Flynn smelled as strongly of salt and soap as he did of whiskey, and the combination was intoxicating.

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