Had the mood not been so very heavy and raw, Kell might have questioned why Neria was disrobing, but he recalled that time in her tent, the reveal of the scar over his own heart, and even before it was revealed, it was where his eyes were drawn.

Kell's heart skipped a beat.

Thinking nothing of propriety, he reached out to lay his own long fingers over the marks, as if he could overlay that touch, lift it up and off her skin with will alone. Beneath his fingers the magic was tangled, alien, a power that made his skin crawl when he touched it too directly. He did not pull away.

"... what did she do?"