QUOTE : In a lightning gesture, he lashes out with a claw, drawing a shallow X over my heart. The blood wells through my sliced shirt, and for a moment I am too shocked to move. I can’t believe Vel hurt me. I would’ve sworn he never, ever would. I guess this means he hates me, too. The agony sears way more than it should for the size of the wound, burning from the betrayal, and tears spring up in my eyes. When I see my pain reflected in his side-set eyes, I know why he did. So I can cry. Even though it hurt him, too, he gave me the wound that permits me to let go. It’s a selfless thing, because I can see by the twitch of his mandible that it injured him, too. He has a friend’s blood on his bare claws, a horrendous thing—and lovely, too. My sobs, when they tear free, wrack me from head to toe. He draws me to him, all smooth chitin, cool and hard to the touch. There should be no solace in it, but there is because he’s Vel, and he took my pain for his own. Now he must live with the knowledge he harmed someone he cares about—and that’s not lightly done for one who lives as long as he. I respect his bravery and fortitude more than ever. For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.