Page 215 of Black Reign

Then a voice from inside.

Male.

Angry.

And underneath it⁠—

nothing.

No Vesper.

My mind creates every possibility at once.

Too late.

Moved.

Unconscious.

Dead.

No.

I will not think that word.

We hit the room.

A man has his arm locked around a woman.

Weapon against her side.

Caramel hair spills over his sleeve.

My entire world narrows to one color.

Caramel.

Not blonde.

Not black.

Not brown.

Caramel.

Her head lifts.

Blue eyes find mine.

Cornflower.

Bright even beneath bad industrial lighting.

And her mouth⁠—

I know that mouth.

I would know it from three planets away.