Ravensblood Forest who do you turn to when the night is darkest?

She does it. But he does not fight as she punctures his neck, absorbing the feeling of blood seeping from the wound with an odd serenity. It is not enough to kill him, but enough for him to understand how truly she loathed him -- he could not blame her. As much as he could try to justify his attempt to ruin her and sew together the bones of a new woman, there was no true reason for the crime. It had been done out of selfish curiosity, to test his own limits. However, in the aftermath, Vaati had been foolish to expect her allegiance. He was foolish to assume she wouldn't lunge for his jugular, for had he not once wished to give her the guts to do so? Inside him wages an eternal conflict, unable to decipher if killing her was truly the end to the problem he created. But created her, he had.

Instead, he simply laughs through the slight pain in his neck; wincing ever so often at the tender spot it sits. She did what he would have done. "You did it. You're me now. One half of the other." Perhaps now they are even. But would she accept her new identity, for was that not what she wanted? To ascend to something greater than a faceless denizen without a purpose? She was the last to lay a mark of vengeance upon his neck as Hydra had done so before, rendering him at her mercy in a symbolic sense.