Dorian raised his hand, purple magic crackling between the crystal on the end of his staff and his open palm. It arched over his head, like a violence of veins, before disappearing as he redirected it at a qunari foolish enough to get between the pierce of his stare and Iron Bull.

The qunari's heavy body was dashed to the side before crunching against a nearby wall.

The dragon poured out a scream, shaking dust from the ancient rafters.

Going to pretend you didn't love me?

He spoke to Bull without moving his lips, turned to a thin, pale line. Dorian placed the words directly into the man's consciousness, fueled by mortification and rage.