ALTHEA
"The first time we meet," he said, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone with tender fascination, "and you are covered in blood like a warrior." His eyes were pale, ancient, and completely inhuman as they traced over my face, my torn clothes, and the gore that painted my skin. "You are so beautifully horrific."
He said it like a compliment. He spoke as if finding his daughter drenched in carnage and cradling a corpse was everything he had ever hoped for.
"Don't touch me," I managed to choke out, but my voice came out weak and powerless against whatever invisible force he was exerting.
"Shh," he soothed, his other hand coming up to cup my face completely now, holding me like something precious and fragile. "Look at you, fighting even now. Even when your mate is dead in your arms. You remain defiant even as you body shuts down."
His gaze shifted briefly to Thorne's lifeless form, then back to me with renewed delight.
