Sisters Underneath the Shadow of Chains
The fingers were pale, graceful, firm. They grasped the edge of the cloth, pulling it back.
Light fell across the stranger's obscured face, stroking over the smooth line of her cheek.
A smooth complexion appeared first, pale skin that appeared to capture the candlelight and retain it. Shadows receded slowly—dark eyes, bottomless and keen, shining with feeling. Her chin fine, her forehead smooth, lips firm but soft, a jawline traced with strength.
And under the hood, locks of black hair cascaded, cut short to a neat bob around her face.
Her lips curved upward, bearing a smile not of a stranger, but of blood. Of home.
Natty's breath was taken. Her own lips parted. Seeing, something unraveled inside of her that had been bound up in silence too long.
".Natasha," she breathed.
