Page 123 of Fang & Fury

The Spider Sigil, aye, she’d spoken to Gil earlier. He’d told her the name of the ancient tattoo.

But it was just a mark now.

It held no meaning, for the tattooist who had wielded it was dead. However, this woman’s loyalty had been forced, as had all the others.

Ailsa had wanted to save as many of them as possible, but she’d failed this warrior, and all the others killed in battle.

Gregor was dead at least—the binding shattered—but that couldn’t take back what he’d done. Or what Niall had done either. His ambition had turned him into a fool.

Rising to her feet, wincing as her leg twinged once more, she continued across the battlefield, deliberately not rushing, deliberately observing the faces of both sides.

Such carnage.

And suddenly, it had been over.

It felt strange.

Stopping in the midst of the battlefield, she glanced left and saw a familiar figure crossing through the corpses toward her.

Darach had found some clothing: leather breeches and a vest, and heavy boots. He walked stiffly with a slight limp. The wound to his shoulder had stopped bleeding, yet it needed tending to, and across his bare arms, she noticed several nicks and cuts.

He too hadn’t emerged unscathed.

But together, they’d been part of something bigger than themselves.

And they’d survived.

“Are you staying out here?” Darach asked as he approached.

“Not for much longer.” She hesitated then. “I just needed … to see their faces.”

He gave her a long, searching look before nodding.

Aye, Darach of all people understood.

A moment later, he stepped close, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

“I thought I was done for earlier,” she murmured to him. “I would have been … if you hadn’t found me.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure … but it seems that my bavaan instinct can fail me.” She winced then. “My compassion got the better of me … it’s my weak spot, it seems.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly, holding her gaze. “Compassion is never a weakness, Ailsa. It does you great credit.” He paused. “Although, I’ll admit it has shit timing.”

Ailsa cut him a look. “I didn’t show Maol much pity, did I?”

Aye, for a short while, she’d been oblivious to everything except the sweet, coppery deliciousness of his blood sliding down her throat.

Darach snorted. “No, but he had it coming.” His expression sobered again. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? You’re not one or the other. Not all bavaan, not all Marav. Your empathy is real, and so is your hunger. Both of them are you.”

She took these words in, warmth suffusing her chest. “Everyone knows what I am now,” she replied softly. “But I can’t bring myself to care.”

Indeed, she’d seen their shock.

Kayla watched her, face pinched, eyes startled.

Bree, Cailean, Tae had stared at her too, with varying levels of disgust writ upon their faces.