Jun 2, 2016
“Where did all those bruises came from?”
Coming out of the shower room, Dahlia Avery was the last person he expected to meet. His shirt was slung over one arm; he was half-dressed and he wouldn’t have felt self-concious were it not for the attention brought to his bruises. “Here and there,” Amycus said, running a hand through his damp hair. “Nothing too sinister.” Nothing anyone needed to know about. Amycus would have healed them himself if he had the power. As it was, his strength lay in causing more bruises to bloom, not making them disappear.
