And Finn is five feet away, watching her out of the corner of his eye like he’s ready to catch her if she slips.
Something inside me uncoils.
Slow.
Dark.
Mean.
I walk toward her.
Kael mutters something under his breath — warning or plea, I can’t tell — but I ignore him.
Wren turns as I approach.
And she smiles.
Small.
Tired.
Real.
Like nothing happened last night.
Like she didn’t break.
Like she didn’t need Finn more than she needed me.
“Atlas,” she says softly.“Hi.”
It guts me.
Because she says my name like she trusts me.
Even if she doesn’t.
“Morning,” I manage.
“You okay?”she asks.
The question is a knife.
I open my mouth.
But Finn steps in subtly — a slight shift, putting himself between us like he’s shielding her from something he thinks I might do.
It’s small.
Almost imperceptible.
Almost.
I see red.
Not anger at her.
Not jealousy.
