She was going to kill him.
That was the first thought.
The second thought arrived approximately half a second later, when she registered her situation in full — both wrists bound above her head by something cultivation-woven that she could 'feel' the qi threading through, her arms stretched upward, her feet spread and anchored to nothing physical but held apart by the same force that held her wrists, her body hanging between two tall garden trees in the lantern light like a problem that had been suspended for later consideration.
Her clan vest was still on.
Her lower garment — a fighter's wrap, close-cut — was still on.
The panty beneath it was still on.
For now.
These facts she catalogued rapidly, the way the tiger clan catalogued threats, assigning value and priority.
"What does it mean."
Her voice came out considerably more level than she felt.
She looked at him.
