“I didn’t say handle.” Varyth’s attention snapped back to me, and gods, there was heat there. Raw and unfiltered before he could shove it back down. “You’re not something to behandled, Isara. You’re?—”
He cut himself off with an exhale that was either frustration or something infinitely more dangerous.
“Beautiful,” he said finally, the word escaping like a confession. “You’re beautiful and infuriating in equal measure, and it would take an extraordinarily patient man to be around that combination without losing his mind.”
The words dropped between us like stones into still water, sending ripples through the charged air. Varyth’s eyes widened fractionally, like he’d just heard what he’d said and couldn’t quite believe it had escaped his tightly controlled mouth.
“The leathers,” I blurted out, because my brain had apparently abandoned me entirely. “It’s just the leathers. Makes everyone look good. Basic tailoring principle.”
He took a step closer. Then another.
And I couldn’t do anything except stand there like an idiot while he invaded the space between us with a deliberate intent that made my pulse scatter.
“The cut is—” He gestured vaguely at my waist, his hand tracing the air without touching. “It accentuates the lines. The curve from here—” His fingers hovered near my ribs, and I felt the ghost of heat even though he wasn’t making contact. “To here.”
His hand drifted lower, following the fitted leather over my hip, not touching but so close I could feel the warmth of his skin through the space between us.
“The way it hugs—” He stopped, swallowed hard enough that I watched his throat work.
“Architecturally sound.”Darian’s voice rang out from somewhere in the trees, filled with glee.“Tell her she’s architecturally sound again. It worked so well the first time.”
Varyth jerked backward like he’d been burned, his hand dropping to his side so fast I almost missed the movement. The fire in his eyes flickered, then banked, composure slamming back into place with visible effort.
The silence that followed Darian’s shout stretched like pulled taffy, sticky and uncomfortable and definitely about to snap.
Varyth’s head turned toward the trees with the precision of a predator tracking prey.
“Darian,” he said, so soft it barely disturbed the air. “Come here.”
“You know what?” Darian’s voice floated back, suddenly much farther away than before. “I’m good where I am, actually. Great view of the Veil from here. Very educational.”
“Now.”
The single word carried enough weight to make the air pressure shift. I felt it press against my skin, and the shadows around Varyth seemed to deepen, stretching toward the tree line with visible hunger.
Darian emerged from between the trees with his hands raised in surrender, that insufferable grin plastered across his face despite the very real threat radiating from his High Lord.
“Look,” Darian said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere around nervous. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. The leathers are fantastic. Truly inspired tailoring.Whoever made them deserves a raise and possibly a medal for services to?—”
“Stop. Talking.”
But Darian, because he was either the bravest or stupidest man I’d ever met, kept going.
“I mean, Varyth’s not wrong.” He gestured at me with an enthusiasm usually reserved for discussing fine art. “The way they fit? It’s like they were designed specifically to showcase?—”
“Darian.” Varyth’s tone had pitched below freezing now, somewhere in the realm where words turned were enough to draw blood. “I am going to count to three. If you are still talking when I reach three, I will demonstrate exactly how creative I can be with mist magic and your respiratory system.”
The shadows around him had grown thicker, coiling like smoke given form and malice. They weren’t just dark, they were hungry, reaching toward Darian with the kind of patient inevitability that suggested Varyth wasn’t making idle threats.
“One.”
“Right, but objectively speaking, you have to admit?—”
“Two.”
Something in Varyth’s countdown must have finally penetrated Darian’s thick skull, because his grin faltered. His eyes darted to the mist creeping closer, then back to Varyth’s face, and whatever he saw there made him take a step backward.
“You’re actually serious.”
