“About what happened in the mountains—” I begin, and immediately see her face close, walls slamming up. I’ve said it wrong already.
“Was a mistake. I know.” Her voice is tight as she cuts me off. “You don’t have to explain—”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I get it,” she continues, hurt bleeding through her attempt at detachment. “Things weren’t normal out there. Doesn’t mean anything now that we’re safe—”
“Would you let me finish?” I snap without thinking, and the lights dip overhead, my energy disrupting the electrical current. Ember notices, her eyes darting upward before returning to my face.
She stops, arms crossed defensively, waiting.
I take a breath, pulling my power back in. “What happened wasn’t a mistake. But it is complicated.”
Her eyes flash. “Because of my mother.”
“Because of a lot of things. Your age. My position. The scrutiny we’ll face—”
“So, you’re saying we can’t—”
“I’m saying we need to be smart about how we handle this.” Frustration edges into my voice. “Viktor’s already watching us. Half the Council would consider our relationship a security breach.”
“Smart, meaning what? Pretend it didn’t happen?” She takes a step back.
“Smart meaning not broadcasting it before we’ve figured out what it is ourselves.”
“What it is?” Her voice rises. “You’ve been inside me and you don’t know what it is?”
The bluntness stops me cold. Heat flares across my skin; memory and shame and desire all tangled together. The temperature in the room actually rises a few degrees in responseto my loss of control. A supernatural lifetime of discipline, crumbling around a young woman with fire in her veins.
“I know what it is for me,” I say, the words raw in my throat. “I’m asking if you know what it is for you.”
Ember stares at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re twenty-one. You have centuries ahead of you. And I need to know this isn’t just…” I struggle to find the right words, “reaction to trauma. Or gratitude. Or—”
“You think I had sex with you out of gratitude?” Her anger flares and with it, her own power sparks. If we’re not careful, we’ll set off every fire alarm in the building.
I run a hand through my hair. “I think you’ve been through hell. I think your emotions are running high. I think—”
She steps close, cutting me off. “You think too much.”
“One of us has to—”
“I’m not some confused girl who doesn’t know her own mind.” The fire in her eyes could burn cities to ash. Literally. I’ve heard what her rage can do, even though part of me doesn’t believe it. She seems so fragile.
My defenses crack. “Then tell me. What is this? What do you want from me?”
“I want you to stop acting like wanting me is a crime.” Her voice is fierce now, no trace of uncertainty.
“I’m trying to protect you—”
“From what? Yourself? My mother? Or just from making your own choice?”
The silence that follows burns between us. I’ve faced death a thousand times and never felt this exposed.
“I’m terrified.” My own words surprise me. “Of failing you. Of your mother being right. Of you waking up one day and realizing you settled for—”
She stops me with her hand on my chest, directly over that ancient scar that she’s traced with her fingers before.
