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She wore a dead woman’s boots, and had blades in her belt.
Paskia looked down at Rodin’s head as he tightened the boots. He had rescued her. Of course he had. This was all as it should be.
He had rescued her. Of course he had. This was all as it should be.Somewhere, Paskia knew she should be worried, and scared. She should be questioning all of this. She should be feeling something for all those bodies, all those lives suddenly ended. But she felt only calm.
Maybe it would hit her later.
Maybe it would hit her later.She remembered once more taking that plunge into the icy lake. There had been no thought once she started to run, adrenaline forcing her limbs to keep moving. And this sensation, of her body taking over as her mind faded into the background—she had felt this a
