My stomach twisted at the sight.
The legendary Phantom Thief—broken, bleeding, barely standing—was a contradiction I couldn't reconcile. The man who had danced on rooftops, mocked dukes, and snatched treasures from under the noses of kingdoms now swayed before me like a wounded beast.
"…You shouldn't even be moving," I said, my voice sharper than intended.
Doran chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "If I stop moving, I die. Simple math, Julie."
His humor grated against the gnawing unease in my chest. I wanted to snap at him, to force him to sit down and stop pretending this was nothing. But the truth was… the sight of him like this terrified me. Not because he was wounded, but because if he could be cut down, then what chance did I have in this game?
I forced my thoughts back under control. "Show me the arm."
He raised his left hand and tossed something onto the table between us.
Thud.
