Chapter 12: The Wound Said Aloud

Bram shouted for Maud, and she came up the tower stairs in her nightgown with her shawl over it.

She did not ask what had happened.

She looked at the blood running down my back and the two of us tangled in the blankets, and she went to the washstand for a bowl.

"Lie still," she said. "Both of you."

I lay on my stomach with my face in the pillow and Bram's hand flat on the back of my neck.

I felt Maud's fingers at the edge of the false mark.

It had come loose at the edges.

She pinched the edge and drew.

Something thin and bright slid out of my shoulder, a silver thread as long as my hand, wet and red.

I made a sound into the pillow.

"There," said Maud. "That's what was holding the stitching."

She dropped it in the bowl, where it rang against the china.

The pain went out of my back all at once.

The place where the crescent had been was raw and smooth, and I could feel my wolf standing steady behind my ribs.

She was not falling.

She was not going anywhere.

"I'm still here," I whispered.

"You're still here," Bram said. His voice was ragged.

Maud wrapped a clean linen strip around my shoulder.

"The true bond took the weight," she said. "I thought it would. The old book is cruel, but it's honest."

She picked up the bowl and went to the door.

"I'll sit on the landing. Call if the bleeding starts again."

"Maud," I said.

"Hush."

"Thank you."

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