His dark eyes roved over her face. “Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end.” She gripped his hand and squeezed. “I know.” The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, “Do you want me to tell you about it?” He didn’t mean his brother. She shook her head. “I know enough.” She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. “I know enough,” she repeated.
