“You are injured,” he said with a pointed glance to her arm. He sliced a line down it while she watched. Her eyes glazed over with hunger, her pupils dilating, as she watched the blood flow from the gash, and they flashed up to his as he held out his arm to her. “Drink. Heal. And then you have much to tell me, Daughter of Night.” “Magic does not work here. You know that,” Nuri replied. “Fae blood is different. You will see.”
