Her breath hitched, just barely, and I noticed the faint flutter of her pulse at her neck.
She was checking me out and I let her. I let her take her time.
Because fuck, that felt good.
Then, right as her eyes swept back up, they landed on my neck. “How did you get the scar?”
I clenched my jaw, unwilling to tell the story. “Fight.”
She nodded, but didn’t push, instantly respecting my boundary.
My voice was quieter when I spoke next. “Why come out here?”
She hesitated, then turned toward the Highlands again, her gaze sweeping over the open stretch of land like she wasn’t really seeing it.
“Because I can.”
I pushed to my feet and stepped up beside her, close enough the chill in the air didn’t feel so cold. Close enough I could hear the quiet tremor in her breath.
“You couldn’t before?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t allowed to leave Cyclos.”
I stilled.Wasn’t allowed?
I studied her profile, waiting for a smirk, a flicker of amusement—something to tell me she was messing with me. But she wasn’t.
“What do you mean, you weren’tallowed?”
A dry laugh slipped from her lips. “I couldn’t leave the Collective. They said I endangered the political climate or whatever.”
Oh wow, Cyclos really did win the award for bullshit of the year.
Anger curled hot in my chest, a slow, simmering burn. “Are you fucking kidding me? And James, what? Let them keep you locked in?”
His name was out before I could stop myself, but I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. James—the same guy who would raze cities to the ground if someone touched what was his—had let the Council shove her into a box?
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.
Then, finally, her voice came, softer but firm. “He helped me see my parents once. And gave me portal lessons.”
Oh well, give the guy a fucking medal.
I let out a slow, sharp breath, shaking my head. “That’s all he did?”
Her gaze snapped to me, and for the first time, there was something hard in her expression.
“That’s all I’m saying.”
Her tone was final, a wall slamming down between us. A boundary I needed to respect as much as she respected mine, but something about it twisted inside me.
I realized I wanted her to trust me. I wanted more than clipped answers and careful restraint.
But trust wasn’t a one-way street. If I wanted her to let me in, I had to be willing to do the same.
Which was exactly what I planned to do.
THIRTY-EIGHT
