The black of the ocean waves was the color of the sorrow in my breast, a sorrow that was never far away and always visible.

I did not choose to be a monster—a shell of a man—half-human, half-fiend. I am a tiefling. I am what I am.

Iona stared at me for a long time. “You are going to leave me a widow before I have a chance to become a bride.

Then it kissed me—not as a man would kiss a lover, not with tenderness or even passion. This was a kiss that stole the soul of men. Revulsion at this creature’s kiss was instantly replaced by the warmth stealing through my veins, as if my missing blood were being replenished and contrived to heal me. I craved to keep kissing the beast. My entire being awakened to that kiss feeding me ecstasy, feeding me life.

My life was going exactly where I wanted it to until the Devil showed up.

I was once a man, not a great man, not a saintly man, but a good man, and a man nonetheless.

God himself had sent me away. I was truly now among the damned.