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He would only stop when he hit bone.
When she was screaming and screaming.
A dream. An illusion. Her escape from
him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.
Had she said it? Had she said where the
keys were hidden?
She couldn’t stop the sob that ripped from
her.
Then a cool, cultured voice purred, “All
that training, and this is what becomes of
you?”
Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other
side of the altar, was not real. Even if he
looked it, his red hair shining, his clothes
impeccable.
Her former master gave her a half smile.
“Even Sam held out better than this.”
Cairn twisted the knife again, slicing
through muscle. She arched, her scream
ringing in her ears. From far away, Fenrys