““Again, that fist struck from inside. And then bones snapped, punching outward, ripping through muscle and skin as if his chest cavity were the petals of a blooming flower. There was nothing inside. No blood, no organs. Only a mighty, ageless darkness—and two flickering golden embers at its core. Not embers. Eyes. Simmering with ancient malice. They narrowed in acknowledgment and pleasure. It took every ounce of her fire to steel her spine, to tilt her head at a jaunty angle and drawl, “At least you know how to make a good entrance, Erawan.””
