Page 206 of Salt Between the Wolves

Soren immediately regretted coming.

"You look terrible."

He stopped near the doorway and sighed.

"Good evening to you as well."

Varda ignored the remark.

"Sit."

"I can stand."

"You can bleed on the floor standing up, or you can sit."

Soren sat, mostly because arguing required more energy than he currently possessed.

The healer approached without ceremony, sympathy, or fear, which was one of the advantages of having known someone since childhood.

Varda carefully removed the outer bandages from his shoulder.

The room remained silent until she saw the wound.

Her expression tightened slightly, not enough for most people to notice but enough for Soren.

"The arrow missed anything important."

"I noticed."

"It was trying."

"I noticed that too."

Varda continued her work, cleaning, inspecting, and rewrapping the injury with her usual methodical precision.

The familiar routine should have been reassuring, but it wasn't.

The mark burned again, sending a slow, hot, persistent pulse beneath his ribs as though it were aware she was here and looking directly at it.

Varda's hands paused for only a second before she slowly reached for the collar of his shirt.

Soren immediately caught her wrist.

The movement sent pain through his shoulder, but he ignored it.

"So we're doing this again."

The healer looked down at his hand and then back up at him.

Neither spoke for a moment.

Eventually she said, "Yes."

Soren released her.

Varda pulled the fabric aside, and a long silence followed.

The mark stood out clearly against his skin, darker than before and somehow angrier in appearance.