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    Summary

    Marat’s first impression of the vhrakir—no, the dawnwalker—had been that he was weak. That wasn’t quite right, of course, because no vhrakir was weak. Claws and teeth and the ability to vanish and reappear with an exhaled hiss, to end Marat’s life before he could draw a breath—he knew the dawnwalker possessed all of that. If weakness wasn’t the correct description, it was something near. Soft was the word, perhaps, a vulnerability that was so close to the surface of Coen’s skin that it could be felt like body heat.
    x
    Marat POV, begins after what moves the dead (starting with the wound treating scene). Post Ambrus duel. Hurt/comfort fic really

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,487
    Chapters:
    4/?
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    Kudos:
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