Fiona knocked only once before she entered Fervor's office without even waiting for him to give her permission to do so. The sound of the door closing echoed faintly in the large office, followed by the quiet scrape of her heels against the floor as she moved further inside.
She wore a blue V-neck gown with no other piece of cloth to cover the many deep and nasty scars scattered across her skin, scars that looked carved rather than formed. They were not the kind that healed with time. They were the kind that clung to the flesh like they belonged there, as much a part of her as her own bones.
Even at that moment, there was an almost incessant need to cover her entire body up completely and hide away—an instinct she had to fight fiercely against as she stepped further in and closed the door behind her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she did it, but her face remained unreadable, her eyes sharp.
