Somehow Bull made it up the stairs in record time without spilling the mug. He even had the presence of mind to set it down as he stared at the sick red glow coming from the floor. Goosebumps rose over his skin and his jaw tensed.

On the tip of his tongue was an accusation, but that wasn't fair and he knew that. Dorian wouldn't keep red lyrium. Dorian knew better, knew as well as Bull did what the stuff was capable of. Still, the sight of it pulled at one of those deep-seeded fears. Corruption, madness.

He looked across the room at Dorian. "Are you alright?" he asked for the second time that night. At least this time it wasn't his fault.