Kiss My Corpse
When Connor finally accepted that I would never return, he drowned himself in alcohol.
Sometimes, in his drunken stupor, he would curse my name, calling me a cruel woman for how I had treated Belinda.
But more often, he would scream for me, stumbling into the ice chamber where my corpse was kept, pressing desperate kisses against my decaying flesh.
Even I, the owner of that body, found it revolting.
When his drinking began interfering with his duties, the elders could no longer stand idly by. They summoned Belinda, hoping she could pull him from his downward spiral.