I wanted to curse the Blade Council for hesitating.
But I was just as guilty. I'd been in Scalvaris, safe and fed and sleeping in my safe quarters with the other humans. I'd been training and learning Drakarn customs and having vivid dreams about Nyx while Larissa was being starved and broken.
Vega had told us it was bad. Had described what she’d seen in Ignarath, the conditions, the casual cruelty. But I'd never imagined this. Never let myself picture what months of captivity would actually do to a person.
The guilt sat heavy in my chest, made breathing difficult.
I wanted to tear that city to the ground.
I must have made a noise. Some small sound of rage or disgust that I couldn't quite suppress.
Larissa jerked her gaze towards me even as she flinched back. "Who the hell are you? Get out of here!"
Her hand shot out, knocked over a metal tray on the table beside her cot. The contents scattered across the floor with a clatter that made her flinch again, curling in on herself like she expected to be hit.
The medic, a man in his forties with the kind of tired eyes that came from seeing too much suffering, rushed to pick things up. His movements were slow and careful, giving Larissa time to track them. Not threatening.
He'd done this before. Knew how to move around traumatized patients.
I took a careful step in past the curtain that acted as a door. "My name is Lexa. I'm a friend of your sister's."
Larissa looked at me blankly. "My sister is dead."
The words hit hard. Flat and certain, like she'd accepted it as fact months ago. Like she'd mourned and moved on and couldn't afford to hope otherwise.
My chest ached for Kira. For the woman who'd spent months desperately searching while Larissa had given up hope of ever being found. For the reunion that should have happened weeks ago if the Blade Council hadn't been so fucking cautious.
I'd hoped that word from Vega had spread to Larissa after Vega’s mission. That somehow, she'd heard her sister was alive and safe.
But apparently not.
"She's not." I took one more step into the room and stopped when Larissa held up a shaking fist, as if she could fight me off. "I promise you. She's safe. I just saw her a few days ago."
"Don't lie to me!" Larissa's voice cracked. Her whole body trembled, every muscle tensed like she was preparing to either fight or flee. Her eyes were too wide, pupils dilated with fear and adrenaline.
"I—" Something metallic went flying past my head.
I ducked on instinct, the object clattering against the wall behind me. A water cup. Larissa had thrown it with surprising force for someone who looked like a slight breeze could knock her over.
"I think you need to leave," the medic said. His voice was surprisingly calm given that Larissa was practically hissing at him. "Please, you're upsetting her."
Fucking hell.
I held up both hands and backed out of the room.
The curtain fell closed behind me. I backed into the alley, breathing hard, trying to process what I'd just seen.
Someone placed a hand on my back, like they thought I might fall over.
The touch was light. But I'd spent months in Scalvaris where touching someone without permission was a challenge that had to be met with force. Where physical contact meant either intimacy or combat, nothing in between.
I whipped around, hand automatically clasping the hilt of my knife. The blade was halfway out of its sheath before my brain caught up with my reflexes.
The woman behind me stumbled back, her eyes going wide. She held up both hands in a gesture of surrender, her whole body language screaming no threat.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought?—"
Damn it.
