I turn back to Darian.
I’d like to say that every time I look at him it doesn’t do things to me I don’t want to think about. I’d be lying. He’s cleaned up since his late-night entrance—complete with groveling. The shadows around him move almost mechanically, there’s tensionin his shoulders. But he’s still as breathtaking as he was the first time I saw him at the academy.
Fantastic.
My shadows drift forward before I consciously decide to move. Bob positioning himself at the front, his silhouette arching taller. Linda hovering near my shoulder. Carl uncertain, flicking between me and Darian like he’s confused.
Finnick appears at my feet—sharp edges, no playfulness. Unusual for him.
Mouse’s tail is low, ears back, watchful.
They remember.
Of course they remember.
I walk slowly. My ribs protest a little with each step.
Darian goes completely still. Shoulders tight. Hands curling into fists like he’s bracing for something. His shadows twitch—reacting to mine.
I hesitate.
What am I doing?
But I keep walking.
Darian opens his mouth—probably to apologize again. I raise my hand. “Don’t.”
He stops. Swallows. Nods.
Good.
I force myself to look at him. Really look at him.
“I still hate what you did,” I say. He flinches.
“The arena. What you did to me there.” My chest tightens. “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Kaia—”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever forget it.” The words taste bitter. “But…”Fuck.“Forgiving you isn’t impossible.”
Darian looks like I just broke him and put him back together wrong.
“I don’t deserve—”
“No. You don’t.” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be. “But I’m not doing this for you.”
He nods. Doesn’t argue.
Smart.
Silence stretches between us.
Then Darian speaks, voice rough. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Oh gods. What now?
“What?”
