"You saved me," she said quickly. "I'm grateful."
"Grateful." He finished with the clasp but didn't step away. Instead, his hands settled on her shoulders, holding her in place. "Is that what you felt when I kissed you? Gratitude?"
The directness of the question startled her. This wasn't like Arion, he was usually careful, respectful of boundaries.
"I—" She tried to turn, but his hands tightened slightly, keeping her facing away.
"The warmth responded to me," he continued, and there was something almost possessive in his tone that reminded her unsettlingly of Eliam. "It reached for me like it was desperate. Like it recognized something in me that it needed."
Now she did turn, his hands falling away, and found his expression intense in a way she'd never seen before. The usual controlled calm was cracking, something hungrier showing through.
"Arion—"
"He's manipulating you." The words came out flat, certain. "The marks, the blood bargain, the way he's isolated you—you think you're choosing him, but are you? Really?"
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" He stepped closer, backing her against the display case. "When was the last time you made a decision he didn't influence? When was the last time you were away from him long enough to think clearly? His essencelivesinside of you. Did you ever think that if it wasn’t there, you wouldn’t be so easily swayed?"
Her back hit the cold stone, and he braced his hands on either side of her, caging her in. The light around him flickered erratically, not the steady glow she was used to but something sharper, almost aggressive.
"You're scaring me," she said quietly.
Something flickered across his face, surprise, maybe, or recognition, but it was quickly replaced by that unsettling intensity.
"Good," he said. "You should be scared. Of him. Of what he's turning you into. His possession, his thing." His hand rose to touch the pendant where it rested against her chest. "You deserve better than being someone's property."
"And what would I be with you?" The question came out sharper than intended.
"Mine." The word escaped before he seemed to catch himself, and she saw him blink, confusion crossing his features as if he wasn't sure why he'd said it. He stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair. "That's not—I didn't mean—"
"You sounded like him just then," Briar said, studying his face. "Exactly like him."
Arion's expression grew darker. "I'm nothing like him."
But even as he said it, she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Something was changing in him, something he didn't understand any more than she did. The usual warmth of his light had taken on an edge, and the way he looked at her now—possessive, hungry, determined—was far from the gentle patience she'd come to expect.
"When he hurts you again," Arion said, his voice dropping back to that darker register, "and he will, because it's what he does—I won't pretend to be noble about it. I won't wait patiently or respect your space." He moved close again, though not quite as aggressively as before. "I'll take you away from him. Make you see what you could have with me instead."
"That doesn't sound like a choice."
"Neither does staying with someone who throws you to the wolves on a whim." His hand rose to her throat, fingers ghosting over the autumn marks. "Who marked you like property. Who would rather see you dead than free."
The warmth in her chest pulsed, pulling toward him with an intensity that made her gasp. His eyes widened, and she felt him lean into it, drawn by the same force.
"It wants me," he said softly, wonder and satisfaction mixing in his voice. "Whatever you want to call it, whatever it is—it recognizes me as much as it recognizes him."
"Why?" The question escaped before she could stop it. "Why both of you?"
"I don't know." His thumb traced along her jaw. "But I intend to find out. And when I do—"
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Arion stepped back so quickly she almost stumbled, his court mask sliding back into place with visible effort. But she could still see it—the darkness lurking at the edges, the hunger he was trying to control.
"We should go," he said, his tone forcibly neutral as he gathered the wrapped weapons. "The others will be waiting."
As they left the vault, Briar couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted.
The staging area was bustling with activity. Sian sorted through medical supplies while Halian checked and rechecked ward stones. Karse lounged against a wall, seemingly bored but his eyes tracking everything. Thaine was examining maps spread across a table.
