Chiron licked the blood from his thumb, a single, casual motion that carried the weight of his blood curse.
Then, with a careless wave of his hand to the side, the blood on the ground trembled—rippled—then surged upward like it was being pulled by invisible threads.
Before their very eyes, it reshaped… bones, flesh, skin… until standing before them was a second Cassian.
Identical.
Same frightened eyes. Same trembling lips. Same hair, face, bloodied royal robes and shoes.
The original Cassian stared at the clone in open-mouthed horror. But before he could scream—
Snap.
Chiron twisted his neck with a vicious jerk. The boy crumpled like a rag doll, lifeless in the dirt.
The clone didn't even flinch. He looked to Chiron, and Chiron gave him a single nod.
The clone nodded back.
