"If someone looks at you wrong, I'm going to hurt them." I hold her gaze. Let her see it. "That's not a threat. That's just information. Stay close."
She should argue. Tell me I'm insane. Walk away.
Instead her mouth curves. Just barely.
"Okay."
My cock stirs.
Just from that. Just from her agreeing to stay close to me.
Fuck…
The Hollow is full.
Twelve of my elite around the central table. Maps. Documents. The conversation dies the moment I walk through the door.
With her.
Every head turns. Every eye lands on Iowyn.
She's walking beside me. Her shoulder almost brushing my arm. I can feel the heat of her through my sleeve. The distance between us is two inches and it's too much, it's way too fucking much, I want her closer, want her pressed against my side where I can feel her skin expand with her breathing—
"Discord." Varn speaks first. Old. Gray beard. "We weren't expecting—"
"Plans change." I pull out the chair at the head of the table. Look at Iowyn. "Sit."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Please."
Where did that come from?
I don't say please. The word sits in my mouth like something rotting. She sits anyway.
I gave her the only seat that matters, which means there's nowhere for me now. I stand behind her instead. Better angle anyway—I can see the whole room, and no one gets to her without going through me first.
I am close enough that my hip brushes the back of her chair. Close enough that my hand could drop to her shoulder. Her neck. The place where her hair parts and I can see skin.
I could slide my fingers into her hair right now. Grip. Pull until her throat is bared and her eyes go dark. Would she gasp? Fight? Melt? I want to find out.
My hand lands on the chair back instead.
"The breach," Renan says, sliding into his spot across the table. "Coin's blaming everyone. Faith. War. Us. They don't know who hit them and they're panicking." His mouth curves. "Our people covered their tracks. For now, we're just another House being accused."
"For now," Varn says. "But if they find evidence—"
"They won't." Renan's voice is final. "The tunnels are collapsed. The bodies are gone. Kairis died in a building collapse during an 'unknown attack.' Very tragic."
The room shifts. My elite know what we did. They don't know why. They're watching me now, waiting for an explanation I'm not going to give.
I hear the words. They slide past without sticking.
Iowyn's hair is loose. Brown waves past her shoulders. I can see her neck.
Five people have kept dragging their gaze back to her. I'm keeping count. I don't know why. Nothing good lives at the end of that number.
"—proposal for a counter-narrative," someone is saying. Sira. Maybe. "We frame the breach as retrieval of stolen property—"
