A tense stillness settled inside of me, the sort of silence that comes before a thunderclap. xxx I tasted blood and bitter rue. A slight line of a frown touched her forehead, as if she were annoyed, or angry, or concentrating. The heat of her body was like standing near a fire. Detachedly, I gathered up the pieces of my mind and fit them all together. Felurian was watching me. She took another step. Suddenly, years later, I was that feral boy again. The fourth story told of the man lasting nearly half a year. I tasted blood and bitter rue. Felurian brushed her fingertips across my lips. I tried to memorize the sight of it, unblinking. There was such a weight of fury in her simple gesture that my stomach clenched and I realized this fact:
No one ever left Felurian.
