Zayn stood over the dead cult member, his breath rising slowly into the cold air, a thin mist in the still of night.
His sword was already tucked back in its sheath, resting silently against his back. The world around him felt unnervingly quiet.
The sky had only grown darker since he'd jumped out the window.
Dark clouds now rolled across the heavens, obscuring the stars that had once offered faint light.
Not even a crescent moon peeked through. It was as if the world had turned away from this moment, as if it didn't want to witness what was about to happen.
Zayn took a deep breath and extended a hand forward.
This was something he hadn't done in front of the others.
Not even Seren, who often clung to him like a second shadow, had seen this part of him.
He'd always been curious, always wondered what it would feel like. Absorbing a human soul into the soul forge.
But these things — they weren't human anymore.
Not truly.
