Ankyra Sound The huntress

all this menace balled up into a body whose single purpose was to kill. sobeille admired it; sivaak wore who she was proudly.

sobeille had to hide that nature.

she nearly answered the first question, but she got the sense it may be rhetorical; a statement to stop her needling. her answer would have been simple anyway: you can’t kill which you don’t understand.

not in the spiritual sense, anyway.

she did not flinch as the killer leered close, but her blood answered in a hastened song as it pounded along her head and spine. this was dangerous — sivaak was mortal peril given snowdowned form.

then the killer took one step back; not out of fear but some other imperative. the cheshire smile that split her pale face showed an arsenal of well-worn teeth; weapons set in an armory of ruthless steel.

chani was leaving. ajei did not love her back. the trial for sobeille’s crimes in the swiftcurrent camp loomed overhead; a guillotine waiting for its arcing moment. sobeille had many reasons to find the unspoken invitation attractive. as the killer’s cold nose pressed to her fur a chill raked sobeille’s topline.

an’ where would you be takin’ me? sobeille had no illusion that she could overpower this woman.