If not for the loss of her lover, she would never believe pain could feel this exquisite and all-consuming. The agony of black poison surges through her veins like a

If not for the loss of her lover, she would never believe pain could feel this exquisite and all-consuming. The agony of black poison surges through her veins like a curtain falling over her memories, and she pushes past it to recall ritual diagrams written in carmine on vellum pages.