After talking, I wondered if he’d brought them for extra security. He was eager for me to meet the man who’d risked his life to heal me. Alexander, the Architect, who ran this entire family, was a mentalist capable of messing with a person’s thoughts. Nothing anyone said about the Architect matched how I’d been treated here, except Chancellor Morgen’s assurance that he only saved me to pop out his kids.
That stuck with me. This world valued fertility more than anything.
I clenched my fists and looked at Ezra towering over me. His shadow stretched across my knees like an invitation and a warning. “I’m leaning against the door because I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
I wasn’t sure if I meant in the gym, this castle, or in this world. Maybe all of it.
Ezra lowered himself until our shoulders nearly brushed, close enough that my breath bounced off his arm. “Did you get what you needed from Willow?”
“Yes.” The single-word answer tasted like acid on my tongue. Did I admit I didn’t understand money in this world? Did I trust Ezra? Was I ready for the possible time-traveler conversation?
I clasped my hands together and felt my heart beat between mine and Ezra’s even breaths.
The answer was no.
He was hot as hell, and my crush still made my head spin. He’d saved me, twice. It wasn’t the attraction that scared me; it was how safe I felt wanting him.
But.
The only time he shared anything about himself was to steer my actions. He tried to pick my friends, and now he kept me so busy I couldn’t think for myself. I didn’t know where Cayden’s head was at; however, his observations concerning Ezra and isolation were right. This wasn’t friendship; it was control.
Silence descended upon us, thickening until every exhale felt like a choice: speak, or let the air confess for me. I studied the weights from my past, suddenly unsure what this powerful commander saw in me beyond my fertility.
“When I escaped my slavers,” Ezra said, his gruff voice filling the silence, “I found a group of men living in the tunnel system under The Royal Mile. The world’s not easy for people with no family, as you know.”
I wrapped my arms around myself.
“The group wasn’t well organized,” he continued. “When we needed food, we attacked supply chains. When we needed entertainment, we went to the pit fights and made trouble. When ourhormones got the best of us, we helped ourselves to whomever was convenient. Which worked well for me.”
A chill threaded through me. Honesty this raw shouldn’t sound like penance… oh. My wave of compassion crashed short as his words repeated in my mind: ‘Which worked well for me.’I scratched my nose. Ezra preferred the company of men. He wasn’t into women, much less me. I wasn’t sure if that made everything better or worse.
Three for three. No one wanted to be more than friends. I thought Ezra and I had a moment in the Alun, but he pulled away, and then things got complicated.
I took a deep breath. “I’m listening.”
“I’d been in the tunnels for a year when we found this kid, sixteen at most.” A soft smile tugged at Ezra’s lips. “He was scrawny and pale as a ghost. A perfect toy for a band of directionless, angry men. But for some reason, every time we got near him, we decided to go elsewhere. One night, I snuck into his cellar alone. In the pitch black, there are no shadows, and my magic was virtually mute.”
“What did you do?” Unease made my heart race. Where was this going?
“I crept toward his sleeping body,” Ezra continued. “One step at a time, until I stepped on something crunchy, setting off a chain reaction of noise.” Ezra laughed. “Smelly ooze dropped from the ceiling. A spray of what I later discovered was glow-in-the-dark paint covered me. The kid woke, and we locked gazes. I was livid. Instead of running, I punched him hard. He dropped like a stone, and I bolted before I set off any more of his traps.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my lips. The sound startled me, too light and alive.
“Everything about me is stealth.” Ezra groaned. “For weeks, you could smell and see me coming for miles.”
I relaxed my arms.
“I regret how our interaction at the cannons ended.” Ezra met my gaze. “I shared with you in hopes you would see events my way. It was wrong of me.”
For the first time, he wasn’t the commander speaking, just a man asking forgiveness.
He reached out as if to touch me and hesitated, fingers ghosting the air near my wrist until the restraint itself felt like a touch. “I cannot change what I’ve done, but I find my workouts quieter than I remembered.”
The commander of this entire place was offering me an olive branch, trying to rekindle our friendship. Suspicion twisted my stomach, which responded by growling with hunger.
Ezra reached into his pocket-void, pulled out a wrapped bar, and handed it to me. I was too hungry to argue and demolished it. Three more appeared, and he pushed them into my hands.
“When I first arrived, did you and the others decide who my friends should be?” I asked bluntly.
