He knew that first, before the pain, before the horror, before the cold anger and mind-numbing humiliation. It was the mystery he clung to, when all those other things rolled through him. It was something to occupy his mind. It was dim, and his eyes wouldn’t open all the way, so it was difficult ...
He pressed his hands to her wounds, but the blood pulsed through his fingers with a speed that made his efforts useless. “Why? Gods dammit, Ams, why?” She laughed again, that same high-pitched desperate sound that set his chattering teeth on edge. “You’ll go to her when I’m dead,” she whispered. ...