Garrika lay unconscious on the bed, her long black hair spilling across the sheets, wolf ears twitching faintly even in her sleep. Trafalgar had hauled her up there with Barth's help, and now the three of them occupied the room together: one sleeping, one shaken, and one calculating.
Barth sat hunched in a chair, his eyes fixed on the floor as though he'd committed a crime. His hands trembled in his lap, and his breathing was shallow. For him, putting Garrika under had felt far too close to harming her.
Trafalgar, meanwhile, was busy searching the drawers of the bedside table. He pulled one open, raised an eyebrow, and shut it again quickly. The second and third weren't much better—stuffed with things that made him click his tongue in disgust. Finally, in the fourth, he found what he needed: a set of steel restraints, four pairs in total.
He pulled them out, the metal clinking sharply as they hit the surface of the table.
