“Just remember,” he said, low enough to sound like a threat if it came from anyone else, “she’s not like the others.”
I arched a brow, feigning boredom. “And you think I don’t know that?”
His grin twitched. Faded at the edges.
There it was.
The part where the mask slipped, and Gideon stopped playing the jester.
Just for a moment.
“You’ve got it bad for this one, Hades.”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t breathe.
He went on anyway.
“Just don’t let it blind you.”
I shifted my weight, rolled my jaw.
The irritation came fast, curling under my skin like smoke behind my ribs.
“You think I’m careless?” I asked, voice like flint striking steel. “That I’d risk everything on a whim?”
“Careless?” He let out a breath—half a laugh, no real humor in it. “No. You? You’re calculated to the fucking second. You don’t gamble—you stack the deck.”
“Exactly.”
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t smile.
Just said, “Which means you already know how easily she breaks.”
That landed.
Quiet. Direct.
No malice, just fact.
And I hated him for being right.
“I’ll have her,” I said, voice low, final. “You know that.”
“I do,” Gideon murmured. “Just make sure she doesn’t get shattered in the process.”
The words hung in the air between us like ash.
I met his gaze.
He held it.
Gideon had always been loyal. Loyal enough to bleed for me. Kill for me. Lie for me.
And still…
He was the only one who dared to question how close to the edge I was willing to drag her.
