Julian instinctively touched his hair—it was still raven black, messy and dark against the white silk pillows. But as he looked into the polished silver tray on the bedside table, he froze.
His eyes had always been a strange pair—one a deep, piercing blue and the other a clouded purple. But now, the blue was being eaten.
A rough, violet corrosion was spreading across his left iris, crawling toward the pupil like ink dropped in water. The blue was fading, being reclaimed by the same purple of his other eye.
"Julian," Elian whispered, his hand hovering near Julian's face but not daring to touch him. "Your eyes... the blue is disappearing."
Julian stared at his reflection, the demon's words echoing in his mind: I think I'll give you something more to save.
This was far more than he bargained for.
He didn't want this. He didn't want to be involved with it. But… he did learn one thing. The creator, the demon, did not plan to simply corrupt the Holy Empire and be done with it.
