s*x in death
He drew a small, silver-handled dagger from his belt—the same dagger that had killed me in Life Three.
"It’s not a who, Elowen," he said, his voice turning cold. "It’s the Ninth Life. It’s come to make sure the Tenth doesn't escape."
The door didn't break. It simply began to melt, the wood turning into a black, viscous liquid. And stepping through the puddle of rot was a woman.
She wore a tattered wedding dress, her throat crushed and her eyes gone.
It was me. From the life before. I need honesty