start to sit up. “Bram—” “It’s fine.” Ramanu releases me and rises with a fluid grace that sets alarm bells pealing through my head. “Bram may be reckless, but he’s not a fool. To lay a finger on me is to directly challenge Azazel. He can’t afford to do that because he won’t win.” The comment should fill me with relief, but all I feel is anger at the defeat that flickers over Bram’s expression. I might not know which way is up and which way is down in this current situation, but I know a shit-starter when I see one. Ramanu might technically be here to check on me, but they’re also here to stir
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