Cullen smiled at the faint glow of the bottle, watching as the contents swirled and shifted inside. He stared at the patterns, imagining the Inquisitor as Kaitlyn battled dragons and demons and darkspawn, charging forward each time.
Cullen brushed his fingers against the
glass, grateful that she’d insisted on him keeping it. He set the bottle by
his bed before he slept. It was nothing like having her warm body curled beside
his, brown hair tickling his chest, but it was still a piece of her. A piece
only he was allowed to have.
Cullen clutched the bottle in his hands,
willing his life into the blood inside. He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. But he’d seen it too
many times before. Smashing the glass against the nearby wall, he watched the blood drip down the stones and knew the
truth. Kaitlyn was gone.