Her pretty face was open and honest. She removed her hooded tunic and lay it beside her, dressed now only in her leggings and wrap. She was slender and muscular, the muscle in her shoulders and arms defined.
It was easy to imagine her standing at Ander’s side. They must have made a lovely couple, not just beautiful, but earnest and good. She was likely a better person than I was—someone who would never stab their mate—and Ander was certainly a better man than Fear.
“I don’t know,” Fear confessed. “You had a good life once. You lost much. I don’t know if it’s better to mourn what’s been lost and to try to piece back together the shards.”
“Well, I guess I’d rather be miserable than let the queen win.” She said the words lightly, though I had the feeling her courage had been summoned from deep within. She smiled at me. “Brandish away.”
She had more personality than I expected from a Nightwalker. I’d had little contact with them to know if there was truly something strange and notable about her or if the Nightwalkers were just always acting.
I lifted the knife and drew the tip over her body. Despite herself, as I passed the knife over her arm, her hands turned over and clenched into fists. But no enchantment rose to her skin. Her jaw tightened, a muscle jumping, as I brought it near her neck and down, and her stomach tightened as I moved downward.
Color pulsed beneath her skin, and I knelt at her side. “Hold,” I told her softly, and Fear leaned over us both from the other side, ready to grip her if needed. The healer was just outside the door.
My palm gripped her flat, cool side, holding her steady, as I pressed the tip above the ruby crystal that had formed. Like Riven’s, this was deeper than her skin, woven into her flesh.
I glanced up at her. She gave me a small smile and a nod, as if she were the one encouraging me.
I dug the tip of the blade into her skin. She was still at first, but this enchantment was woven even deeper than Riven’s.
She let out a cry, and Fear gripped her shoulders, holding her still.
“It’s all right.” He used his best, comforting voice. He could be so convincing.
I slid beneath the crystal with the tip of the blade and worked it loose, bit by bit, trying to focus only on the work. I tried to be mindless of how her body had gone taut and arched with pain.
The crystal shattered suddenly, flying in shards across her lap and toward me. I ducked away, and her blood was spilling into her lap, but there were still glimmering pieces of the enchantment embedded in her flesh.
“Fear,” she gutted out. She clutched his arm and looked up at him as if she knew him.
“Almost there.” He was using the soothing voice again, but lines of tension stood out in his corded forearms.
When I held the tip of the knife at the wound I’d made, shards rose to the surface. I had to reach in and twist them out the rest of the way, worrying them out with the tip, and her eyes closed, her face paling with pain.
As soon as I had the last free, I shouted for the healer and backed away.
“I remember you,” she told Fear as the healer went to work. She grabbed his forearm rather than let him move further away, staring up at him. “We were friends for years.”
His throat worked once before he answered. “I didn’t know you were alive. I would’ve come for you.”
“Enough. I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty.” She frowned up at him. “Ander…is he all right?”
“He’s alive and…well.”
She seemed to be casting about for another question, and Fear added, “He is alone.”
Relief brightened her face. She swallowed it down, managing concern instead. “It’s been years.”
“I’m not sure that matters,” Fear said.
“Where is he?”
“On a mission with Amber. I can summon him?—”
“No!” She looked from him to me, her eyes widening. “Please, no. Don’t tell him.”
“If you are worried you’ll disappoint him…” Fear crouched at her side, his gaze gentle. “He has loved you without changing.”
“But I have changed. He mourned a person who deserved it?—”
