FIA
I peeled the wet dress from my skin. The fabric clung stubbornly to every curve before finally releasing its hold. Water pooled at my feet. I kicked the dress aside and reached for something simpler. A loose tunic and fitted trousers. Comfortable. Easy to move in.
The newer towel felt soft against my damp hair. I rubbed until the strands were merely damp instead of dripping. My fingers worked through the tangles with practiced efficiency.
I glanced at the spot where Bo had died. Where Cian had killed her. The floor was clean now. Spotless. But I could still see it. The blood. The way her body had crumpled. The light leaving her eyes.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror. Pale skin. Dark eyes that held too many secrets. I looked tired. Worn down by the weight of everything I carried.
But I couldn't afford to look weak. Not now.
I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin and put on the mask I had perfected over the years.
