Chapter 386: Bitter Mercy
Tarin gave her a nod.
It was weak — barely more than a tremor of motion — but Sophia caught it immediately. His chin dipped, then lifted again as if the effort itself had drained him. His lashes fluttered, and she saw how unfocused his gaze had become, pupils dull and glassy instead of sharp with fear like moments ago.
Her attention slid back to his arm.
The bite wasn't the only injury.
At first glance, the dark veins crawling beneath his skin were alarming enough, spider-webbing outward from the wound like living ink. But as she leaned closer, her stomach tightened. Beneath the spreading blackness was something deeper — a puncture far too clean and far too precise to be only teeth.
It looked like he had been stabbed with a sword. Her mind went back to when he had told her that the others had told him that they wouldn't kill him.
"Did those people," she asked, pointing toward the dead ones with the sigil, "try to kill you?"
