Capítulo 74: Regret is a Powerful Thing

16 April, 1359. Magdaline Castle, Islia

The sun had already risen by the time William woke up with a dull headache and a painful throbbing in his groin. He had slept only fitfully, interrupted by constant dreams of having that maddening, exquisite girl under him. He had felt her warm skin against his and heard her voice as a breathless coo in his ear as she clung to him.

Now that he was awake, he thrashed the blanket off himself. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. A vivid memory from last night flashed before him, of the two of them in the storeroom. His face was buried in her neck while he savoured the taste of her skin and the throb of her rapid pulse against his lips.

The very same girl he'd then told, in the heat of the moment, that she was now dead to him. William remembered how her face had turned white at his hateful words and pressed his hand to his forehead in self loathing.

What the fuck had he done? Had he been briefly possessed?