Rain
A few minutes later, clean, dry, and wearing fresh clothes that made me do a double-take in the mirror, we were led through the winding halls of the dwarven stronghold.
The Molten Baptism grounds.
I didn't like the sound of it. Not one bit.
We stepped into a huge chamber, its ceiling lost in shadows above us. At the far end stood a big stone platform, and on it — a firepit the size of a wagon.
The heat hit me hard, thick and suffocating against my skin. Even the dwarves in their heavy ceremonial armor were sweating like pigs at a summer feast.
And all eyes turned to me.
Of course they did. It'd be a bloody blasphemy if they hadn't. I mean… I had to admit, I looked good. The dress clung to me just right, and the way the firelight caught my hair — if I were them, I'd stare too.
But not like Vorag was staring.
His eyes dragged over me, slow, heavy, devouring me like a starving man at a feast. It was the same look Kai used to give me. I hated that I recognised it.
