[ Her thoughts ride the salt of her blood in her body, the tidal pulse of her heart. The grief of losing her mother, memories of silent trees. The pain, the curse. Armand listens to them, turning them over in his mind like stones from a river. Each one is precious and complex. He holds the weight of them as he looks into her eyes in the darkness.
She wants, very badly, to help him. To offer comfort. It's his own instinct to obey. She's his sister in spirit if not in body, the closest thing he has to a coven-sibling in this place. Shrouded in shadows and forged by trauma, like him. Vampires and wolves are not truly meant to be alone. ]
Thank you. It helps. [ He bridges the gap between them, reaching out carefully to touch her face with his fingertips, drifting up over her cheek and temple to brush back her hair, lightly touching the point of her ear. ]
Little bird. Do you remember what I said to you, when we first met? Your queen may have owned you, but she could not change you. They may think they own us here, but they cannot truly change what we are. [ He says the words firmly, hoping that by speaking them he can make it true, that he can believe them. ]
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She wants, very badly, to help him. To offer comfort. It's his own instinct to obey. She's his sister in spirit if not in body, the closest thing he has to a coven-sibling in this place. Shrouded in shadows and forged by trauma, like him. Vampires and wolves are not truly meant to be alone. ]
Thank you. It helps. [ He bridges the gap between them, reaching out carefully to touch her face with his fingertips, drifting up over her cheek and temple to brush back her hair, lightly touching the point of her ear. ]
Little bird. Do you remember what I said to you, when we first met? Your queen may have owned you, but she could not change you. They may think they own us here, but they cannot truly change what we are. [ He says the words firmly, hoping that by speaking them he can make it true, that he can believe them. ]