The pendant slipped from his fingers.
It hit the dirt quietly while Dorian was in a state far greater than grief. Something beyond any word I could put to it.
While kneeling he looked at his own hands. And the expression on his face told everything about how much hatred he was holding toward them. And why wouldn't he? Because those were the hands responsible for countless lives. And for his Mirena.
His hands were shaking under his own stare. Whether from the weight of his gaze or from the revelation that had just torn through his entire existence, I couldn't tell.
Then he said with a broken demonic voice that was barely holding itself together. "I killed her."
And this time the tears that dripped from his eyes weren't black anymore. They were red. His own blood leaking from those hollow sockets.
