Zara flinched, just a fraction, her blue eyes flicking to his hand, but she didn't pull away, her calloused fingers still beneath his.
"That's when the curse started," she continued, her voice quieter, raw.
"It didn't just burn my body. It hollowed me out. Took pieces of who I was and twisted them. I ran. Tracked the sorcerer. Killed him. Split his skull with my axe. But the curse didn't break. It clung to me, like it knew I'd never stop running." She paused, her gaze distant, the firelight reflecting in her eyes.
"I've been running ever since. Until I heard about a healer in Eldwood who could break curses."
Leon squeezed her hand, his voice soft but firm. "You didn't deserve that, Zara."
Her eyes met his, really met them, and something shifted—her usual hardness cracked, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through.
"You're too soft, healer," she said, her voice lacking its usual bite, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.