The truth came reluctantly. "You. I wanted you to come."
"Because you knew I would."
"Because I knew you'd—" She stopped, realizing what she'd been about to say.
"Protect what's mine." He finished for her. "Yes. Always." His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. "Which brings us to the next lesson."
"Which is?"
"Using that knowledge." He backed her against the wall, but unlike Malachar's violence, this was controlled. Instructive. "You know I'll come when you're threatened. You know others know it too. So how do you use that?"
"I don't understand."
"When someone corners you, when they think you're helpless, what do they expect?"
"Fear?"
"Yes. But also silence. Compliance. Shame." His hand traced down her throat, over marks old and new. "But what if instead you showed confidence? What if you made it clear that touching you meant answering to me?"
"They'd think I was bluffing."
"Would they?" He smiled, sharp and knowing. "After last night? After Malachar lost an eye for putting frost on your skin? Tell me, little thief, who in my court would risk testing that boundary now?"
Understanding dawned. "You didn't just punish him. You made an example."
"I made a statement. One that bears repeating." His thumb found her pulse. "In court today, they'll all be watching. Wondering. Whispering about whether you're worth the price of a Winter Lord's eye."
"Am I?"
"What do you think?"
The warmth in her chest pulsed certain of the answer. Yes. Yes. Always yes.
"I think," she said carefully, "that you don't like people touching your things."
"No," he agreed. "I don't. But more than that..." He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. "I don't like people thinking they can."
"So today's lesson is about showing them they can't?"
"Today's lesson is about showing them you know they can't." He pulled back to study her face. "There's a difference. One is my power. The other is yours."
"I don't have power here."
"Don't you?" His hand spread over her heart where the warmth pulsed. "You have my mark. My protection. My attention. In this court, that's worth more than magic."
"Until you get bored."
"Have I seemed bored?" He pressed closer, and she could feel evidence of just how not-bored he was. "Last night, was that the response of someone losing interest?"
"No," she admitted.
"No. So stop thinking like prey. Start thinking like what you are."
"Which is?"
"Mine." Simple. Possessive. "And in this court, that means untouchable. Valuable. Protected." His mouth found her throat, pressing kisses between words. "It means anyone who even thinks of you thinks of me. Of what I'll do. Of what I've already done."
She shivered, and not from cold. "Is this stillthe lesson?"
