He’d never spoken to her—not really. Had barely given her more than a passing glance, or grimaced his way through polite conversation with her. And yet here she stood, the woman who had taken out a third of Morath, who had devoured a Valg prince from sheer will alone. “How did you do it?” he whispered. “How did you break free of its control?” He had to know. If he was walking into hell itself, if it was more than likely he’d wind up with a new collar around his throat, he had to know. Kaltain studied his neck before she met his stare. “Because I raged against it. Because I did not feel that I
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