The High Priestess sat motionless, blindfold tied firmly across her eyes, but her breath came ragged, chest rising with each inhalation as if she were starved. The Golem's senses bled into her own. She saw through its cracked eyes, felt through its trembling limbs, smelled through the corruption burning inside its chest.
She saw, and smelled him.
The smell. The presence. There was no denying it. The Hobgoblin standing before her, the one who wielded corruption, held Azaroth's Heart.
Her lips parted in a sudden gasp, body shivering.
"Aah…!" She caught herself too late, fingers curling into the dirt as warmth surged through her.
The stench of corruption was intoxicating. Her thighs pressed together, muscles trembling as a tremor rolled down her spine.
