““At last he drew her against his chest, and she clung to him as if he were about to throw her off a cliff. He wondered if that wouldn’t be kinder. “You’re a murderer,” she sobbed. “I hate you, don’t you understand? I hate you!” He tightened his arms around her, awash in painful memories of his own. She didn’t hate him, not anymore. That was why she cried. The blood of her people called out to her for vengeance, as his did to him. And her heart had turned traitor.””
