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Summary
It was not the first time Catra made Prime mad enough to get physical during one of their drunken fights, but it was the first time he put his hands around her neck and squeezed so long she blacked out.
Numb, emptied of emotion, she sat curled up in the window of the dark living room rather than going back to bed. From this vantage point, she felt crystal clear about her future.
He was going to kill her.
All her dormant survival instincts came screaming to life. Her hackles went up, her claws slid out, and she wanted nothing more than to drop to all fours and fucking run.
But she had nowhere to go, and not one person on Etheria cared what happened to her.