Draven spent six hours reading Cassia's research notes while the corruption spread further up his arms and into his chest, and I just sat there watching the black veins multiply under his skin while my brain ran through scenarios where this ended with him dying and none of them were good.
The research was in Old English or Latin or possibly both because Cassia apparently believed in making things difficult, and Draven had to translate out loud while reading because his eyes kept flickering red every time he touched a new page.
"She summoned the demon in 1689." His voice was hollow. Distant. "Used it to destroy a rival coven. Thought she could control it. Bind it to her will."
Because humans—or witches, whatever—always thought they could control things that were fundamentally uncontrollable. That never ended badly. Very sustainable life choice.
"What went wrong?" Morgana was taking notes because apparently documenting our spiral toward disaster was important.
