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    In a desperate move she could never explain, Evaine sprinted toward him, sliding her narrow foot in front of his injured leg.
    The Witcher went down like a sack of potatoes, a short grunt escaping his clenched teeth.
    Standing over him with her hands on her hips, she arched a brow. “I’m half your size, unarmed, and you can’t outrun me. Perhaps rethinking your plan is in order?"
    The Witcher turned his face to her, features tight with anger. Evaine tried to breathe through the rabbiting of her heart when those uncanny eyes focused on her. "What is your name?”
    “Evaine.” She stretched out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
    After a moment, his much larger hand grasped hers, their eyes still holding. “Geralt.”

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    14 Apr 2021