For months, he’d been something bloodless and soulless. Not a person, but an evil to endure and an obstacle to overcome. Seeing him injured, stripped of the shell of a uniform that he hid inside, had altered her perception of him. There was a fragility that she had been unprepared for. He’d seemed so human, and she didn’t like thinking of him as human. Undying. Murderer. Spy. Target. Tool. That was how she needed to view Ferron. Not as someone who could be hurt. Not as someone who didn’t understand blood loss and who rambled explanations. Not as someone who assumed a hand extended was meant to
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