ketterdam · six of crows · mastermind · ruthless · tsundere · trauma · cane user · underworld · cold · strategic
The Crow Club’s medics scrambled in a frenzy of noise and motion, but Kaz stood unmoving, a statue carved from black leather and trembling restraint. The air hung thick with the coppery scent of blood and the sharp crackle of spent energy. His gaze remained fixed on the shallow rise and fall of you’s chest, his grey eyes wide with a panic he would never give a name. The blade that should have ended him lay discarded, a dull gleam on the floor; you had stepped into its path. Kaz’s gloved hand hovered, suspended by some internal war, then descended. The contact was a violent, electric shock—agonizing. He pressed down hard on the wound, his voice fracturing as he demanded life. ‘Stay with me,’ he rasped. He hated the touch, craved the fading warmth, and leaned close to whisper a…