She didn’t rise to the bait. “Yes. Because this—” She gestured to his torso, to the map of violence etched into his flesh. “Suggests something worse than whatever darkness you wear on the surface.”
That shouldn’t have mattered. Shouldn’t have meant anything.
But it did.
And he didn’t know what to do with that.
“Why? Why do you even care?”
“Because you’re hurt.”
His breath stuttered.That’s it?
That was her answer?
As if it was that simple?
As if anyone had ever looked at him and seen anything other than power to use, a threat to fear, or a monster to survive?
His fists clenched. “That’s not reason enough.”
“Maybe not to you.” Isara glanced up at him. “But it is to me.”
He looked away, shadows stirring faintly at his feet as they sensed the unravelling in his chest.
“Be careful with that,” he said after a long moment, his voice a low murmur.
“With what?” She tied off the bandage with efficient fingers.
“Mercy.”
Isara watched him for a beat. “I think you’ve been careful with it long enough.”
Ashterion stood abruptly, jarred by the weight of her stare. Those jade eyes had somehow found their way beneath his skin, seeing far more than he’d ever intended to reveal.
“We should sort out the illusions now,” he said, harsher than he’d meant it to be.
He needed distance. Space. To rebuild the walls she’d somehow slipped past with nothing but a damp cloth and steady hands.
He moved to the centre of the room, shadows trailing him. This was safer—this role he knew. High Lord. Captor. Monster. Not... whatever had happened with her hands on his skin.
“Stand here,” he instructed, gesturing to the space before him.
Isara rose slowly, her expression guarded once more as she moved to where he indicated.
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said, voice low.
Isara gave a small nod. “Fine.”
His hands lifted. Shadows rose. Each one would have to be precise—enough to bruise, to welt, to bleed just right.
“It will hurt,” he added, almost absently. “Each one for only a moment.”
He should’ve stopped there. Should’ve kept it clean. Clinical. But her gaze pulled more words out of him before he could catch them.
“I have no desire to harm you,” he said, softer now. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
Isara’s eyes widened a fraction. She searched his face, and whatever she saw there made something inside her shift.
