“He was protecting the Merchant fort. He didn’t fully understand what was required of him until he arrived there. He found refugees, families, children, the elderly. Creatures who had no place to go. Their lives depended on him. He couldn’t leave. There was no escape, so he killed a part of himself, the one that was kind and funny and was bothered by hurting others, and became that. I cry because I know what it cost him.”

She looked back at the slaughter.

“It took him a long time to come back,” I told her. “Do you understand now? I haven’t trapped him here. I’m not guilt-tripping him into staying or keeping him from being the best werewolf he can be. No force in this galaxy could make Sean do something against his will. I knew him before he was Turan Adin, I saw him with the armor on, and I was there when he took it off. He stays here because he loves me, and I love him.”

She looked at the battle. “Please turn it off.”

I dismissed the screen. We sat in silence for a few moments.

“Your wounds should heal in another couple of days. Do you have a place to go? Where is home?”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “A small room a block away from Wilmos’ shop. I’ve been living there for the last six months. When he didn’t have werewolf guests, I went to hang out at his shop and listen to his war stories. Hanging on to scraps of other people’s glory because I don’t have any of my own.”

Sean had viewed the recording of our fight with the corrupted ad-hal, and according to him, she was well trained and knew what she was doing in a fight. Despite her activation issues, she was faster and stronger than an average human. A lot of security forces would be happy to have her. Failing that, she could make a good living as a mercenary.

None of that mattered. Her self-esteem was nonexistent. She seemed to tackle every problem head-on, without strategy or planning, trying to power through it on sheer will and physical persistence. It must have worked for her in childhood. She probably learned that even if her ossai misfired, if she just ran fast enough, hit hard enough, and didn’t quit, she could hold her own. But the older she grew, the wider the gap between her and other werewolves became. She was likely almost as good as everyone in early childhood, but by mid-teens she would’ve started to lag behind, and by the time she became an adult, she probably realized that no matter how hard she tried, she could never keep up.