Page 185 of Bride of Ashes
Now he was—he'dbecome—Lore.
Scars covered this man’s body, yet they . . .they. . . were one and the same?
Merrick by day.
Lore by night.
I slid off the sill, lowering myself from view, ignoring the scrape to my palms and the blood dripping off my fingers.Needing time to think, I clung to a long, flat stone, out of his possible view.
I tried to make sense of what I'd seen in Merrick's—Lore's—theirroom. The memory of Merrick leaving his bed and approaching the mirror, speaking to himself—no, toLore.
Merrick and Lore were the same person.
Talking to each other before they switched.
Laughing about what one would do with me during the night before the other would take over in the morning to knot my heart even further.
Had they been playing with me all along? I’d . . . kissed them both. Let both of them touch my body. I’d come in both of their arms, and all the while, theyknew.
Lore’s low laugh spilled out the window, finding me dangling against the stone wall, gouging me with his mockery.Theirmockery.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This new pain would be hard to shove away. Poor Kinart, moved aside as if there was someone—no,twosomeones—better.
The rage pouring through me now for them both? It drove my anger to a boiling point. I climbed back up and slipped in through the window quieter than a dragon youngling asleep in its nest.
Lore stood with his back to me. Oblivious to me and the fury churning across my soul.
They’d played with me. Laughed at me.Usedme.
My knife slipped into my hand with ease, a knife that . . .both of themhad given to me.
I rushed toward Lore.
He spun, but it was too late. Much, much too late for them.
And for me.
With a shriek, I gouged my blade toward his chest.
Look for Lady of Cinders,
