FIA
The healer's hands were steady on my arm as she helped me sit up. My throat burned where the glass had bitten, and I could feel the warm trickiness of blood still seeping despite the pressure she'd applied. The towel against my neck was soaked through, heavy with what I'd gambled.
Worth it.
I looked down at Hazel. She sat crumpled against the shattered tiles, her broken hand cradled against her chest. Mascara streaked down her face in ugly black rivers. She rocked slightly, lips moving in what might have been prayers or curses. Hard to tell which.
Then I looked up at Aldric. He stood near the doorway, his expression unreadable but his posture tense. Alert. He'd positioned himself between the crowd and the scene, like he was ready to block anyone who tried to interfere. When our eyes met, something passed between us. Understanding maybe. Or acknowledgment of what I'd just done.
The risk I'd taken.
The madness I'd dragged myself through.
