If anything, the plan had always been to let Ruby be the face of the research. She was vivacious and beautiful and already famous for her sigilhacking. Atria didn’t need the fame. She needed to fulfill the promise she’d made to herself the day she left the Sanctuary with nothing but the clothes on her back.
But Kaz did not need — norwant —her sob story, so she didn’t give it to him. He’d get nothing more from her,ever.
Atria kept her silence and forcefully blinked back tears as he addressed one scrape, cut, and bruise after another.
He was working on her raw palms when he demanded, “Tell me about thisNorman.”
A ripple of jealousy buffeted her extra senses, but she firmly willed herself to block it out. She’d already kept herself too open to Kaz’s emotions. Normally she tried not to invade people’s privacy and was much better at sustaining her mental barriers.
All the stress had knocked those barriers down, leaving her completely open to everything he felt — to apparently disastrous ends.
Mentally rebuilding her barriers brick by brick, she gritted out, “What do you want to know?”
“I just think it’s suspicious that he’s the one who brought the think tank to you and Ruby,andhe’s the only one who’s no longer on the project.”
Atria shook her head. “Whatever you’re thinking, drop it. Norman would never do something as absurd and violent as putting a bounty on me.”
Kaz set her hand down on the counter. His palms slid down her legs to rest just above her shredded knees. He made a low rumbling sound in his chest as he began to examine them. Taking half a step back, he bent at the waist to work the ointment into the stinging abrasions.
“Explain why you think that.”
She looked anywhere but at him. If she let her eyes rest on his bare chest, she knew with absolute certainty that she would not be able to stop herself from imagining him getting on his knees again, pushing up her nightgown, and burying his head between her thighs.
Instead of sparking desire, the mental image only made her want to kick him.Gods, did he think it was part of his duty?She’d begged him to touch her. What if he’d only done it to help her?
That was… worse, she decided, than anything else. If Kaz only touched her intimately because he felt obligated to, Atria thought she might actually be sick.
Her voice was flat when she answered, “Because he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
Kaz’s fingers tightened on her kneecap. “I’m going to need a timeline, princess.”
She really wished he’d stop calling her that. Not only was it ridiculous, but it kicked off the damn butterflies every single time he said it. It was a nickname a lover might use, and Mr. Rione was most certainly not that.
“Of what, exactly?”
“Of your relationship. When did it start, when did it end.Whydid it end?”
Kaz met her eyes from under deeply furrowed brows, his expression dark but unreadable.
“I hardly think that’s necessary—”
A dark hand moved so fast it was a blur. One moment he was tending to her knee, the next he had his fingers loosely curled around her throat. The pad of his thumb pressed hard against her pounding pulse when he used his grip to lean her forward.
In a perfectly measured voice, he replied, “I am trying to keep youalive,princess. Right here, right now, you have no secrets. You have no privacy. All of it belongs to me. That’s the only way I can keep you safe. Hiding shityouthink is irrelevant is how we end up dead. Do you understand?”
Atria’s eyes were wide and her ability to speak coherent sentences scattered, but she did manage a tiny, jerky nod. By some magic, she didn’t feel threatened. He didn’t squeeze or dig his fingers into her vulnerable throat. He simply held her attention in a way that spoke to the animal part of her brain.
You’ll listen to me now,the grip on her throat said.
Slowly, he eased her backward. Unfortunately for the dark knot of desire in her belly, he didn’t remove his hand. “Timeline. Now.”
She knew he could feel her swallow as she tried to get some moisture into her suddenly dry throat. Speaking in an embarrassingly croaky voice, she answered, “Norman and I met in undergrad. He’s a witch just like me. A mechanical engineer with a specialty in sigil enhancement. A metalcraft. We broke up last year.”
Was it her imagination, or had Kaz’s features gotten somehowcolder?
In a disturbingly neutral voice, he asked, “How long were you together?”
“Six years.”
