Slowly, she held out her arm. She forced herself to hold still as his hands came to wrap around her skin, but he was gentle, the barest tips of his fingers grazing her wrist to steady her. With his other hand, he pressed his index and middle fingers to her flesh. Lan drew a sharp breath. The air seemed to shimmer—not visibly, but in a way that resonated in her soul, like the missing chords to a harmony. She felt something flow from his fingertips into the flesh of her arm, seeping through blood and bone.
