Liraz may have captured Ziri's soul like a butterfly in a bottle, but that was only a formality. It was already hers.
And, clearly, judging by the state of her laugh-sobbing in Karou's arms, hers was his, too.

I...I sang," she whispered, "if that matters," and Karou felt her heart pulled to pieces. This Misbegotten warrior, fiercest of them all, had crouched in an icy stream bed to sing a chimera soul into her canteen, because she hadn't known what else to do.
The singing wouldn't have mattered, but she wasn't going to tell Liraz that. If Ziri's soul was in that canteen, Karou would happily learn whatever song Liraz had sung and make it part of her resurrection ritual forever, just so that the angel would never feel that she'd been foolish.

Liraz snorted, caught off guard, and the tension between them ebbed away. "I'm sorry if my almost dying interrupted your almost kissing.

Hot, perpetually pissed-off angel seeks living pincushion for scowl practice and general stabbiness. No kissing.

Liraz was special. Specially antisocial. Spectacularly, even.

- ¿Qué pasa? ¿Por qué te ríes?
- Porque la vida es una bastarda.
- Bien, entonces supongo que encajamos perfectamente en ella.