His eyes widen with the reality of his situation. I don’t feel sorry for being the one to deliver the news. He would have happily delivered the same news to me.
“You don’t… don’t know the story, Romanoff…”
I roll my eyes. “f**k you.”
I lift my gun again, and Jorik jerks with a cough. “Wait. Wait. It’s about Arya. I think you’ll want to know.”
I should pull the trigger, but goddamn it, I hesitate.
I feel the pain before I even know I’m conscious. A splitting ache that starts at my forehead and moves straight back to the crown of my head. Like my skull has been opened wide.
I groan, relieved at the sound of my own voice, no matter how strained. It means I’m conscious. I’m alive.
“She’s waking up,” someone says in a high-pitched, sing-song voice. “Yes, she is. I hoped she would stay as
