The world had fractured. One moment, the air was sweet with jasmine and the smoke of celebratory powder; the next, it was thick with the copper tang of blood and the sulfurous stench of the Abyss.
"Move!" Elric's voice was a tectonic shift, grounding Verona amidst the spiraling panic.
He didn't wait for her to regain her footing. He grabbed her hand, his grip crushing and sure, and pulled her toward the heavy oak doors of the ballroom. Behind them, the terrace was a scene from a nightmare. The winged beast, a Malphas, a creature of jagged bone and shadows, was tearing through the silk awnings, its obsidian talons dripping with the remains of a palace guard.
The ballroom was no longer a place of grace. It was a stampede. Nobles tripped over their own heavy hemlines, jewels scattered across the floor like discarded pebbles, and the screams were a jagged wall of sound that made Verona's ears ring.
