But the frost didn’t believe me. It pulsed once in answer, bright and rhythmic—like a second heartbeat.
And still, behind the wall, I could almostfeelher.
My mind drifted back to the kiss against the pillar.
I’d told myself I’d escort her back, keep distance, keep control. Instead, I stood there, the air between us too thin, her pulse a visible thing at the base of her throat. Every instinct said to step away. I didn’t. Couldn’t. Doing so would have been as possible as tearing the moon from the sky.
“I can’t protect you from this Court,” I said at last, the words rougher than I meant. “From me.”
“Have you considered that I don’t need protecting?” she whispered.
Her defiance hit harder than any blade. My breath caught. The silence that followed felt like a trap I’d built for myself.
When I moved, it was only half a step—but enough to make the frostlight ripple across my armor. I felt my own pulse hammer against the metal.Thump-thump. Thump-thump.My hand flexed once, uselessly, as though I could press the ache back into stillness.
“Do you enjoy this?” I asked softly. “Testing the limits?”
“Do you?”
The corner of my mouth twitched—habit, almost a smile. “I used to think I did.”
She swallowed. “And now?”
“Now I’m not sure what I think.”
For a moment I looked down, hoping the stone would lend me an answer colder than the one inside me. When I looked back, I knew she could see it—the exhaustion, the raw edge under every breath. No crown. No mask. Just a man trying to remember how not to feel.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” I said. “I shouldn’t have let this begin.”
“You keep saying that,” she whispered, “but you don’t stop.”
A laugh broke from me—short, sharp, bitter. “Because I can’t.”
The frostlight flickered, betraying me. Control slipped; the air warmed in a slow pulse. I could feel my body betraying what my mind refused to name.
Her gaze met mine. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Look like you want to touch me but never do.”
I dragged in a ragged breath. “Because if I do, I won’t stop.”
Her eyes widened just slightly, and something fragile inside me gave way. I couldn’t look away. My gaze fell to her mouth. Her breath met mine, and the faint halo of frostlight shimmered between us.
Fenrir’s warning growl came from behind her. I flicked a glance toward the hound then back. “He’s smarter than both of us,” I said.
“Probably.”
Our reflections gleamed in the mirrored wall—hers pale and still, mine shadowed and far too near. In the reflection, I was already touching her.
“You shouldn’t make me care this much,” I murmured before I could stop myself.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I know.”
My hand trembled a heartbeat longer then dropped. I stepped back, dragging in air so cold it hurt. The frostlight dimmed; the warmth bled out. Whatever spell had been building cracked—but didn’t die.
