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couldn’t tell what had been done and what was
a nightmare.”
Rowan reached for one of the ewers that
some of the children refilled every few
moments and dumped it over his head. Icy
water bit into his skin, drowning out the
roaring in his ears.
“Cairn did many things like that.” Fenrys
took up a ewer himself, and splashed some
into his hands before rubbing them over his
face. Rowan’s hands shook as he watched the
water funnel toward the basin set beneath the
trough. “Your claiming marks, though.”
Fenrys wiped his face again. “No matter what
they did to her, they remained. Longer than
any other scar, they stayed.”
Yet her neck had been smooth when he’d
found her.
Reading that thought, Fenrys said, “The
last time they healed her, right before she