She bound me. She left me. That is not love.

“Where is she, Remmie? You must know she’s mine. You must know we belong together. Have you ever loved? If you had, you’d not stand between us. Please. Stand aside.”

“Please?” Remmie’s fingers were bloodless on the knife’s hilt. “And is that what those poor councillors and the mages of Elvado said before you beasted them? Please? You were a man, once, Morgan. You were human. But now? I don’t know what you are now.”

He laughed. “Magnificent.”

“If there is a trace left in you of the man my sister knew, for her sake, in her memory, let me—”

He snapped his fingers. “Be quiet.”

Silenced, caught between heartbeats, Remmie Lindin held his breath. Smiling, Morgan indulged in a luxurious cat-stretch, then stripped off his tired tunic and dressed himself as befit a lord. Silk brocade and supple leathers. Jewels in his ears. With his long hair brushed and neatly braided, he turned back to Barl’s brother. The dravas incant came easily, his fingers dancing through the sigils, its syllables tripping off his tongue. Once changed, Remmie would obey his every whim. Would remember enough to remember Barl… and swiftly take him to her.

Be patient, my love. It won’t be long now.

He released Remmie from his thrall so the dravas incant might take effect.

And then a shock. Remmie was fighting him. He was resisting the incant’s changes… and because he was, after all, Barl’s twin brother, monstrously, terribly, he was winning a reprieve.

Snarling now, not smiling, Morgan opened himself to the darkness that was Dorana. Felt its tainted power flood him. Pain flooded after it and he cried out, protesting. Cried out a second time as he imposed his implacable will. Panting, he straightened. Invoked the dravas incant again.

Barl’s brother screamed as his body began its remoulding. Eyes wide with the searing pain, the bones beneath his skin contorting, his pale, scarred skin thickening, teeth lengthening to pointed fangs, fingers curving into claws, breath by breath he changed.

“No!” howled Remmie Lindin, and plunged the knife he held into his own throat.

Linked by the dravas incant, Morgan felt the blade sink hilt-deep. Sank to his knees, screaming, as Remmie Lindin sank before him, the hot blood pumping with every beat of his dying heart. Rage thundered, fury shook him. To be bound, and escape the binding? To triumph over Brice Varen and Sallis Arkley and Shari Friedin, and then die?

At the hands of a treacherous whore’s brother? Never! Never! I am Morgan Danfey!

So he fought to live as Remmie Lindin slowly died. Sprawled on his chamber floor and watched the tide of blood flood towards him. Felt it soak him in its heat. Breathed in its salt sweet stench.

I will not die. I will not die. I am magnificent Morgan Danfey. I will not die.