“Bow for the Asher, the One who is Blessed.”
The slide of slippers and boots over stone echoed, somehow drowning out the sudden pounding of my heart. Ash squeezed my hand, and I felt that. I felt him. Only him.
“The Guardian of Souls,” Rhain continued, and I swore the stars above pulsed. “And the Primal God of Common Men and Endings, the ruler of the Shadowlands. The Primal of Death.”