KillianIt’s been hours, and no matter what I do, nothing can take away the scent of burnt pine and blood that seems to be stuck to my very being. Three men are dead; the wall that had been standing since my grandfather’s time has been turned to kindling, and I am left sitting here, staring at a door. Cormac, one of my most trusted friends, speaks up, “You are going to burn a hole through the wood if you keep staring like that.”I glance toward him, and he also looks like hell, his jacket torn at the shoulder, and dried blood is crusted around his face and hands.He hasn’t left to wash up yet; he's standing here watching this door while I get myself cleaned up. Guilt builds up in my throat, but I can’t allow her to go unwatched, especially after that attack and after learning who she is.My voice is flat, “She’s sleeping.”“Good for her. Meanwhile, we still have work to be done.” He drops a stack of papers at my desk, and the thud makes my temples throb.Cormac’s voice is tense as he
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