🔹THORNE
The boy looked up at me, eyes wide and wary. The tremors that racked his body grew worse.Â
I extended my hand, as slow and as carefully as I could manage with the frustration that churned every emotion into darkness.
Like I would with a wounded animal.
"Come with me," I said, and I tried—really tried—to make my voice soft. Gentle.
The way my mother used to sound when she'd comfort me after the night terrors. When she'd hold me after my father's bouts of madness. Before Morgana had her head.Â
Thal stared at my hand like it might bite him.
He needed someone who would understand—more importantly someone he knew would understand but that meant peeling a layer of yourself for him to see. I wish I had gotten that when my mother died, maybe I would not have turned out the way I did.
"I lost my mother too," I said quietly. "Just like you. She was executed. In front of everyone."
His eyes snapped to mine, something flickering in them.Â
