Carlos wasn't used to being scary; he was used to being scared. But the toughest gang on the Isle had pulled him into their inner circle. With a seductress at his shoulder, a thief behind him, and a dragon flashing a grin of pointed teeth and payback, Carlos felt vicious.
:::
Jay frantically clasps his fingers over Mal's throat. Over severed veins and arteries and too much blood. He knows it won't do enough. His (not sister, not lover, more than a leader) Mal is bleeding out on cold cracked pavement. The light fades from her green eyes. Jay doesn't cry.