Sorin didn’t even heat the water. He stood and dumped buckets over his head, washing his body the best he could while still clutching his flayed stomach closed. It was healing, but it was severe. He guessed the wound would take the rest of the night and most of the day tomorrow before it was completely gone.
But he was lost to thought, clutching the sink in front of the mirror and staring at himself. The doe was alive. He was so in shock at her unlikely survival that he could think of little else. Running up on the barn, he knew it was foolish, but he’d hoped with everything he had that she was okay.
Once he saw the horde gathered, he thought that hope had lied again, like it always did. That he had to watch Codi endure another heart break.
She should be dead. That gap between the wal
