“I didn’t expect you to come get me,” Gideon said quietly.
I frowned. “You agreed to return for the circle.”
“Yes,” he said. “But agreement and expectation are not the same thing.”
I didn’t answer that. The truth sat uncomfortably in my chest.
If it weren’t for the circle, if it weren’t for the vow the Hollows were holding tight, would I have gone to Luna’s shop at all? Or would I have let Stonewick deal with him in its own time, from a distance that felt safer?
He stopped walking.
I took another step before I realized he wasn’t beside me anymore, and I turned back to look at him.
Gideon stood there in the middle of the alley, the late afternoon light catching in his dark hair, his expression stripped of its usual sharpness. My mind flashed back to him on the outskirts of the village when he was a boy, an outsider? And my heart tugged despite myself.
When Gideon looked at me then, really looked at me, something in his gaze shifted.
“Thank you,” he said.
The word landed wrong. It was…too sincere and unguarded.
“For what?” I asked, though I knew.
“For coming to get me,” he said. “And for not sending someone else.”
Guilt flared hot and fast.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “This isn’t exactly an act of mercy. I have my reasons.”
“I know,” he agreed. “But it’s still a choice.”
I searched his face for the familiar arrogance, the edge that always made him feel untouchable. It was there but thinner. His mask had slipped just enough to reveal the man beneath, tired and worn and far more complicated than I wanted him to be. It was easier to throw him in the evil bucket and let him live there, but since the beginning…I’d felt there was more, and I disliked that part about myself.
It was also how I managed to be married to a man who slept with everyone but me for the last several years of our marriage, without even realizing it.
Because sometimes your mind refuses to reconcile that humans could be so deceitful.
“You’re still wondering why I agreed,” he said, bringing me back to reality.
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Ask me.”
“Why?” I said, the word quieter than I’d intended. “Why now?”
He held my gaze for a long moment, and I braced myself for something harsh, something devious, something designed to keep me off balance.
Instead, he sighed.
“I’m tired,” he said simply.
His words startled me more than any threat could have. “Tired?”
“Tired of making choices for other people’s power,” he continued. “I’m tired of being moved across boards I didn’t design. I’m exhausted from believing that if I just gatheredenough influence, enough leverage, enough magic, I would eventually get to decide something that actually mattered.”
I swallowed, and the Academy quieted around us, as if even Stonewick had leaned closer to listen.
“I’ve been a pawn for longer than I care to admit,” he said. “For Shadowick. For Malore. For the Priestess. For forces that told me I was special while tightening the leash one link at a time. When I cast the curse on Stonewick and…”
