The door opens, and I don’t look up, assuming it’s Hargen or Viktor checking on me.
“I’m fine. I just need—”
“Luke?”
My head snaps up.
Ember stands in the doorway, hair tousled, wearing my T-shirt, which she must have grabbed when she woke alone. Her eyes hold uncertainty, vulnerability. The scent of her hits me full force; smoke and sleep-warmth and the lingering musk of sex. My dragon surges in response, scales flaring hot beneath my skin.
“You left. I woke up and you were gone.” She gnaws her lip. “I went out looking for you.” Her lips twitch. “Then realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to be wandering around like this.” She glances down at her bare legs and then back up at me. There’s uncertainty growing there.
My heart cracks. The sound is almost audible.
Because I have to hurt her now. Have to push her away for her own good. Have to make her believe I don’t want this.
And I’ve never been a good liar.
“You should go back to your quarters. Get some rest,” I say, forcing coldness into my voice. The effort sends pain shooting through my chest.
Ember’s face falls, and it fucking kills me. Emotions flit across her features: confusion, hurt, the sharp flash of betrayal that she’s too young to disguise.
“Luke, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just need some space.” I can barely believe I’ve said it. My dragon rages against it, clawing at my control, demanding I take back the words.
Her confusion transforms to disbelief.
“Space? After last night, you needspace?” Her voice rises, and I see the first surge of dragonfire in her eyes, the temperature around her rising.
I force myself to look at her. “Last night was… a mistake.”
It’s a lie. A goddamn lie. I want to take it back even as I say it.
But I can’t.
The word lands like a blade. Her breath catches, and her pain fills the air between us.
Shock, then hurt, then fury flit across her face.
“A mistake.” Her tone is disbelieving. Her skin flushes, and I catch the shimmer of scales appearing briefly at her throat.
“You should be with your mother. Planning that leave she mentioned.” I keep my hands on my knees to keep them from curling into fists.
Her eyes narrow. “What happened? What did she say to you?” Her voice shakes. The temperature in the room spikes as her control slips.
“She said what needed to be said. And she was right.” I set my shoulders as I meet her eye.
Ember steps forward, and I catch the scent of smoke as her anger rises. I rise from where I’m sitting on the bed and move away. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up this bullshit if she gets close enough to touch me.
“Right about what?” she demands.
I hate myself for what I say next. “That this—us—isn’t fair to you. You’re too young to understand what you’re choosing.” Each word drives a spike deeper into my chest, my dragon roaring in protest.
“Don’t do this. Don’t let her—” Her voice breaks, and with it, her control. Her eyes flashing as her power responds to her pain.
“She didn’t make me do anything. I’m making this choice.” It’s not a lie. As much as it’s killing me, it’s a choice I’ve made myself.
Ember stares at me, tears welling, then tumbling, then tracking down her face. Fury and betrayal warring in her expression.
