"You came."
It was a simple two words—words that, quite frankly, Theron wasn't expecting to hear from Malaya of all people. There was no tone of blame, no hatred, no unwilling anger. There was just surprise, as though she well and truly didn't expect him to.
"Your brother gave me a precious technique," Theron replied.
Malaya, too weak to stand on her own feet, nodded slowly. The confusion in her gaze that Theron could see cleared up. That made sense.
But she knew Theron—probably better than he had any idea she did. A technique alone wouldn't have been enough for him to come here, not if he thought he was going to be in any real danger. For him to risk his life on something that wasn't directly related to his revenge, the technique itself would have to be the nail in his enemy's coffin.
Somehow… Malaya doubted that.
