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I stepped back with a cry like a wounded doe and pressed myself to the wall, pure terror running through me at being touched by anyone so soon after the nightmare in the dark.
“I thought so.” Draven’s voice was chill.
“Step away from me. How dare you touch me.” I felt myself trembling.
Draven ignored me. “There are bruises all over your neck. And they are not from the man in the alley last night.”
He glanced around. The corridor around us was empty and quiet. He stepped closer to me. I must have flinched, for I saw something flit across his face. Could it actually have been guilt? I quickly dismissed the thought.
But Draven raised his hands in a timeless gesture that promised he meant no harm.
“Open your collar,” he demanded, in a tone that said he would brook no refusal. “Show me.”
I shook my head slowly. “No,” I whispered.
I tried to sound stronger. “They’re merely the marks from last night. You were right, the man with the knife, he must have been rougher than I realized. I have a few bruises. That’s all.”
Draven was looking at me closely. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
I was relieved. “That’s all right. How were you to... Hey!”
He stepped forward so quickly, the movement was almost blurred. And then he had my arms in his and was yanking up my sleeves.
I tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. His hands were warm and firm against my skin, almost soothingly so. Or at least, they might have been if my arms were not covered in fresh cuts and bruises.
I winced and let out a little cry, then felt ashamed of my weakness.
The cuts were shallow. The bleeding had mostly stopped by the time I woke up in my bed this morning. Alone and unharmed except for cuts, thank the Three. At least, this time.
“It’s nothing. Really, they’re nothing.” I found myself unable to look at his face.
“Stop.” To my shock, he sounded almost disgusted. “Stop lying to me. Next you’ll claim you did this to yourself. Or that you fell.”
He released me and I quickly yanked my sleeves back down, stepping away from him until my back hit the wall. But it was no use. The look in his eyes told me he was not going anywhere. Not without answers.
“Who did this to you?” Even with the sleeves of my tunic pulled down, his eyes were still on my arms, my throat. I thanked the Three that he could not see the rest of me.
Still I said nothing.
He took another step forward. And another.
He was very close now. I could feel the wave of pure fury radiating from his body.
“There are cuts and bruises all over your arms, all over your throat. They are fresh. They were not there last night when I brought you back.”
Last night. I could not help it. I closed my eyes, feeling the bile rise at the memory of Florian overtop me, raising his blade again and again as I lay helpless beneath him, unable to fight, unable to even scream.
“Who?”
I jumped.
“Who did this to you?” Draven’s voice was a guttural growl. The sound of a furious animal, not a man.
I shook my head mutely.
“You won’t tell me? You think I won’t find out for myself?” He shook his head as if in frustration. “Morg–”
My eyes widened.
