Sora's POV
The scarred man doesn't put the silver away right away.
"You'd betray the alliance," he says. "Just like that. You're not afraid?"
"I have a son waiting for me to come home." I'm already rolling up my sleeves. "As long as I'm alive, my name is the only thing that matters. Not whose side a patient's on."
He studies me for a second. Then he jerks his head. The two half-shifted men ease back, the fur settling, the claws going back to hands. The scarred one slides the silver knife into his belt.
I walk to the man on the ground. I kneel.
My hands are steady. They always are, here. This is the one place they never shake.
I check the wound. It's bad. Silver deep in the left side, low, close to the things you can't afford it to be close to. He's lost a lot of blood. But bad isn't
