At first Noct thought it was only the chill of the breeze blowing through the open window that disturbed his slumber. But then he heard it—the distinct sound of a woman crying.
"What the hell—!" Noctis lifted his arm from around his still-lying lover and flung back the bed covers. "Who is that?" he demanded aloud in the darkened motel room.
"You took my ring," a disembodied voice hissed.
"…Your ring?" the prince repeated. Just this afternoon he'd purchased a piece of jewelry from a pawn shop in Lestallum—only a temporary engagement ring until this stupid war was over and he could give Ignis something better.
"The ring is cursed," the voice warned. "All who wear it must die—the same as I!"
The curtains billowed wildly as an icy wind swept over the room. It was then Noctis realized the windows were closed.
"Ignis," he gasped, grabbing his lover's shoulder and giving him a shake. "Ignis, wake up. I need you!"
The man didn't stir. Noct rolled him over, fear gripping him like a vice. But what he dreaded was true: the nails of the hand wearing the impromptu engagement band were blue with the blush of death.