Carla
"What does this mean?" Ty's gaze was fixed on her face, waiting for her answer.
Her tattoo was on her wrist, the Ouroboros between them. His fingers skimmed against the edge. Exposed. What could she tell him? Nervousness skittered down her spine. "It's my birthmark. I've had it since I was born."
"Right. I know it's the mark of an Oracle, but why is it mostly red?"
She chewed her lip. If he knew the truth, he'd probably try to sacrifice himself to gain her magic back and ensure she lived. The idea of living, reaching an old age did have appeal, but not at the cost of him getting hurt or dying. "It marks the time I have left."
His eyes narrowed. "Time for what?"
"To get my abilities back, before they are lost to me forever." Because I'll be dead.
She tucked her hair behind an ear as he continued to stare at her. His gaze shifted to her mouth, and she inhaled sharply.