The pain hit him unexpectedly, acute in the places where his eyes met the back of his skull, and he grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself.
He grabbed her by the arm before he could stumble. "Logan."
"I am okay, " he said, although the sound of his voice was high and distant as if suspended somewhere in between the room and a memory. That had not returned to him in years.
He was eight years old again, kneeling in the dirt of the Ephraim's training yard, a snarling wolf in its cage behind him, a small blade pressed into his palm.
"Kill it, ' Ephraim had said. 'Show me you're worth the food I'm throwing away on you!'
He had turned down, I remember that. His hand was trembling and it wasn't because he was afraid of the wolf, but because of something in his eyes that didn't seem
