His expression held the same tenderness it always had, and the sight of it closed a fist around my heart and squeezed. His hand reached up to my temple, his fingertips gently brushing against my hair before they slid down to my neck, and I froze. The touch was light as he traced the marks on my skin from the attack. “Did you kill the men who did this to you?” His voice was low and quiet, not quite soft, but less harsh than before. “Yes.” I swallowed. I had no choice. “You did them a kindness they did not deserve.”
