Page 79 of Iron Beneath the Snow

She let out a breath, quiet, measured, as if deciding how much of it to give.

“It has to.”

The answer carried more weight than its simplicity suggested.

Soren watched her.

“And that position is dangerous.”

“I know.”

The mark stirred—brief, sharp enough to register before it faded.

Her shoulders tightened almost before the sensation had fully registered in him, only slightly before she forced them still.

“You could have remained silent,” he said.

She almost smiled at that, though it didn’t quite take shape.

“And let them decide what I meant?” she asked. “They already would have.”

“You risked turning them against you.”

“I risk that already.”

This time the answer came quicker, but it did not smooth itself as cleanly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Soren’s gaze moved briefly to her hands, then back to her face.

“You didn’t react to the body.”

Something flickered there—too slight to name, but enough to interrupt the stillness of her expression.

“I’ve seen death before,” she said.

“This wasn’t ritual.”

“No,” she agreed, more quietly now. “It wasn’t.”

Her gaze shifted again, briefly, toward where the body had been, before she drew it back with visible effort.

“It was meant to be seen.”

“And answered.”

“Yes.”

The agreement did not come easily.

The silence that followed held longer this time, not empty, but occupied by everything neither of them chose to say.

“You said you stand between,” he said more quietly.

“Yes.”

“And if Frostvein forces you to choose?”