Raisa's calm words struck her like ice in her very veins, staggered her, and Katja could not draw breath. It shook her more than Raisa's rage, a faint tremble showing at her ears and tail as she stood frozen. "Raisa..." Her cracked whisper fell between them, nearly silent, as the weight of the unspoken accusation settled upon her. Trying to regain her honor she would destroy it beyond repair. If she died she abandoned Raisa.
I need you. The words, though quietly spoken, broke her even as they mended her. Eyes slid shut on a breath finally indrawn. "I can never make up for what I have done to you," she grated stubbornly. "I am not like you. There is not good in me." She swallowed hard. She was an oathbreaker. She was a failure. Those she cared most about were a danger, were in danger and the Xanilov would go as Auora had gone. But gods help her she could not deny Raisa any more than she had been able to her sister.
"What would you have me do, Raisa?" Her voice, always so even and so coolly distant, trembled and broke. Nothing else mattered right now, not Yfir or Olympus or Ebony or Finnvi, or even the fox who still watched in silence. At this moment, there was only Raisa.
""
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