---
Sekhmet asked, "Did you make your decision?"
Lily's eyes sharpened.
The resistance inside her did not vanish, but it changed shape. It was no longer the resistance of someone trying to deny what she had become. It was the resistance of someone being asked to use that new self properly. That was better. Harder too, but better.
She looked at Sekhmet for a long moment, his words settling into the places inside her where hunger and judgment now had to learn how to live together.
Then she asked, "You mean the place."
"Yes."
"And the target."
"Yes."
He held her gaze steadily.
"You refused the wrong blood before," he said. "That was good instinct. So now you choose better."
That settled into her more deeply than she expected.
He was trusting her with it.
Not only with the bite. Not only with whether she could hold herself together once blood touched her mouth. With selection. With standards. With the shape of the hunt itself.
Good. Very good.
