The room was silent, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of three people whose worlds had just collided. The violence had stopped, but the air was still thick with it.
Rowan sat back on his heels. His hands were shaking. He looked at his sister, really looked at her, as if he were seeing a stranger wearing Ines's face.
"Why?" he asked.
His voice was low. It wasn't the roar of the bear anymore. It was a whisper of shock.
"Why would you do such a thing?" he asked again, the question hanging in the air like smoke.
Ines couldn't look at him. She knelt on the floor, the hard wood digging into her knees. Her nightgown was torn at the strap, and her hair hung in a curtain around her face, hiding her shame. She hung her head low, staring at the pattern on the rug where drops of Carcel's blood had fallen.
Rowan shifted. He knelt with her, coming down to her level. He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders.
