Into the Arena

~RAFAEL'S POV~

I stand behind her in front of the vanity mirror.

The black silk of the dress slides through my fingers like water. It is a dress made for a widow, mourning and painful. Good. Let her mourn the life she lost. Let her mourn the girl she used to be. That girl is dead.

She is trembling.

I rest my hands on her bare shoulders. Her skin is cool, clammy with that specific, sweet scent of f