It was possibly the worst thing—or the best—that he could have said in the circumstances. Violet had talked about the knife-spell coming from a part of her that was only anger. Maud felt a dark flicker, deep in her belly, thinking of Robin. She couldn’t transform the anger into magic. But oh, she wanted to, in order to hurt this person in return. She wanted to take his skin off inch by inch. She wanted to watch him writhe.
