BRAN
Bran's shoulders tightened as the witch came closer, that bloody raven still resting on her shoulder and staring at Bran through its beady little eyes. He would never admit it out loud, but the bird freaked him out.
He tensed when she placed her hand on his chest. She flattened her palm as her face took on an odd look of concentration, then she lifted her hand slowly and Bran felt as though something was being forced out of his chest with a string.
His back arched with the force of it, disturbing his injuries and causing a stitch to loosen. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain.
Suddenly, his back hit the bed and the sensation stopped. He took a shaky breath and it was a while before he could calm his heart and force his eyes open—no matter how adamant they wer
