She was reduced to being a cripple, a weakling prone to the mercy of the strong.
Yekaterina came to slowly, only aware at first, of the giant wound in her body where Wolf's sword had been. The familiar smell of herbs and the feel of a poultice on her stomach put her at ease. She was in Inga's cabin. She was safe. As soon as she regained consciousness her mind, with its cold efficiency, began to replay the events of that night. Vairos's comments, Wolf's hunger, a...Read On