“As I said,” Petyr murmurs. “Everyone has their breaking point. I do enjoy experimenting.”
I stare down at the metal. Not copper, with its deep, almost reddish hue. This is something else entirely. My neck prickles, and I raise my head, meeting the Metallurgist’s gaze.
He smiles at me. A wide smile, disturbing in its brightness. “You haven’t finished your dinner.”
“My apologies.” I take a long, deep breath, steadying my hands and pulling them beneath the table. “I find myself very tired. The work today was taxing. If you will both kindly excuse me, I think I’ll retire for the night.”
My hands tremble, the pain in my palms growing.
Callan.
Callan is on the other side of the door, I remind myself. My heavy chair screeches against the stone floor as I stand, pushing it back even as my knees shake. I can taste metal on the tip of my tongue.
I even manage a smile as both males push to their feet. “I’m sorry to cut the evening short.”
“Not at all.” Petyr bows his head. “I assume my brother is waiting for you? I’ll fetch him.”
He strides across the room without waiting for my answer, pulling the door open. “Selene is feeling unwell. You’ll escort her back to her room, won’t you, brother?”
Callan almost shoves his brother aside as he pushes through the doorway. His hands land on my arms. “Gods, you’re like ice.”
I can’t speak. My gaze lifts to Petyr. He leans against the door, a look of concern etched into his face. But hiseyes.
Callan was right—eyes do not lie. And Petyr’s eyes look as though this evening has been some sort of victory, though I don’t understand why. “I’ll leave her in your capable hands, then?” he says to Callan. “The Metallurgist and I have some things to discuss.”
Callan doesn’t even look at him, his nod terse as he steers me through the doors and out into the hall. The iron ring built into the door twists and closes behind us without another word.
“Stop.” My hand burns as I shift away. “Callan, stop.”
“I’ll get Matthias.” He rubs at my arms again, as if trying to imbue warmth into them. “You shouldn’t have gone.”
“I should have stayed longer.” I’ve missed something. The sensation is becoming all too familiar. “He…”
Callan turns to stone. “Hewhat?”
My heart beats out of time, the sensation almost painful as it speeds until I rub at my chest with the urge to ease it. My hands tingle, the fire-lit scones that line the hallway beginning to swim in my vision. “I need to not be here, Callan. I need—”
My breathing turns choppy and harsh.
I need the sky. Cool air against my face. The walls are closing in, trapping me and dragging me down beneath the ground.
“Help me,” I choke out. “I can’t breathe here.”
But when I tilt, strong hands hold me in place. Callan lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist. Callan’s voice sounds in my ear as his hands smooth down my dress. “Can you hold on to me?”
That's all I can do. My arms wrapped around his neck, I bury my face just above his shoulder, losing myself in the movement of his body and breathing in the scent of his skin as thoughit’s the air I need. One hand strokes over my wings, wrapping around my lower back. The other grips the back of my neck. Just enough. Enough to hold me together. “Focus on breathing. I’m taking you outside.”
I can’t stop the shaking. Voices attempt to stop us, and I vaguely recognize Tobias’s. “Where are you going?”
“To the town,” Callan snaps. “We’ll be back tomorrow. Try to stop me and I’ll bring this entire fucking building down around your ears, Tobias.Move.”
My grip tightens, but there’s only silence.
And then blissful, blessedair. I tilt my face to the side, enough that it brushes over my cheek, the other still pressed against him.
“I can walk,” I rasp. Though it is the last thing I want.
“No.” Despite the rough tone, his touch is infinitely soft as he runs his hand down from my neck, over my wings and back up. “I don’t mind carrying you.”
