“They’re attacking,” I gasp.
“I’ll handle it,” he snaps, shoving me through the threshold. “Go!”
Cassian swings the metal bar at one bird and catches another with his forearm, gritting his teeth as claws rake his skin. Before I can think about whether he’s bleeding, a bruising grip clamps onto my other arm.
Nathaniel.
“You heard them,” he says, voice low and commanding.
“I’m—” I start, but he doesn’t wait. In one sharp motion, he yanks me past Cassian, past the threshold, and past the point where I can see Talon still swinging at the swarm.
He doesn’t stop until we’re halfway down the corridor. Then he turns, pressing me gently but firmly against the wall. His hand stays on my arm, fingers warm through the blouse fabric.
“You are not stepping outside again until I say so.”
I open my mouth, half to argue, half to ask what the hell just happened, but his gaze holds me in place. It’s like a pin through a butterfly.
He leans in, close enough that his breath brushes my cheek.
“They weren’t attacking us,” he says quietly. “They were coming for you.”
Then he lets go, stepping back as if the conversation’s over.
For a moment, it is.
But only for a moment.
“What happened out there?” Nathaniel asks minutes later. “What did you do to make it this way?”
I blink at him, slow.
“I didn’tdoanything.”
The breath barely leaves my lips before the doors slam open behind Nathaniel. Cassian stalks through first, shoving them closed so violently the entire glass frame shudders in its moorings. Outside, every bird perched along the railing erupts upward in a single violent burst of wings before settling again almost instantly.
Talon barrels in a second later, shoving the slingshot into his pocket like he’d rather snap it in half. He’s muttering short, clipped curses under his breath.
Both of them look wrecked.
Hair mussed. Skin damp. Dirt streaked across cheekbones and jawlines.
But they don’t have scratches. Not as deep as mine anyway.
Nathaniel doesn’t even spare them a glance when they stop beside him. His gaze stays fixed on me as though he hasn’t blinked since the first question.
“I’m not accusing you,” he says. “I just need to know if something, anything, happened before they attacked. Because that wasn’t random. They were focused on you.”
“No shit,” Talon mutters, dragging a forearm across his forehead and smearing the dirt wider. “They ignored me completely, and I was practically begging for it.”
Cassian steps closer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
His gaze drops to the line of blood on my cheek—exactly where their claws raked me—and his jaw tightens so violently I swear I hear the teeth-grind. He takes one more step, like he’s about to inspect the damage himself, but Nathaniel slices right between us and takes over.
“Walk us through it. What did you two talk about? You were gone for a while.” His fingers skim my jaw, tilting my face toward the light.
My first instinct is to say nothing. We were just talking, after all. About the ICU room, the clothes. Talon told me about the sweatpants I’m wearing and how he got them, that sort of thing.
