silver is the grip on the helping hand

She struck like a snake, and before he knew it he was dangling from her jaws. Helpless and small in her grasp. Like a child. He stopped fighting her, hanging there, trembling. "You don't understand," he whispered. "She told me affection gets you killed. That day… they had me, and I called her name. She hesitated. It was only a moment, less than a second. But it was enough. It's my fault she's dead." He'd never told the full truth before, not even to Delphi. He'd shedded no tears over it either, not until now. 


The full impact of it hadn't hit him until Bylgja had looked at him like that. He could feel the way it pulled him into knots. The horror, the fear.