Nagira watched the small girl disappear into his spare room. Her hair caught the dim light of his office, shining copper and long by her face.
She was Amon's.
He didn't need to see his stupid little brother – half-brother, who wouldn't know a good thing if it walked up to him and kicked him in the nuts – to know that they were gone, lost to each other. Amon wouldn't have sent her here if he didn't feel something for her. If he wasn't worried about her.
Nagira watched her disappear.
She was Amon's.
Not his.
Never.
Damn it.