“Do youwantto?”
The shears clattered onto the table. Twelve years surviving Father’s brutal training regime. Nine years hunting. Three hundred and ninety confirmed kills. Not once had a simple question turned my tongue to stone.
“Want?” The word came out ragged, stripped bare. I cleared my throat. “You require assistance. I’ll provide it.”
Her shoulders slumped, and Zane groaned theatrically. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ko drop his face into his palm as he shook his head.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped closer, boot tips nearly touching her new sneakers. Slowly, agonizingly, I forced my clenched fist to open. Let my fingers brush the uninjured side of her jaw.
“I willalwayshelp you,” I said, thumb grazing the apple of her cheek.
Her head shot up, and those eyes swallowed me whole. Somewhere beyond the roaring in my ears, Zane muttered, “Better. Still terrible, but better.”
“Sweater.” The word emerged sharper than intended. I modified cadence, loosened shoulders, conscious adjustments that felt like removing shrapnel without anesthetic. “Do you need help taking it off?”
“Maybe,” she hedged when the clear answer was yes.
“Then I’ll help you with that, too.”
My mind was already mapping out the steps: check her ankle first, then her arm, careful not to tug too hard if the bandage stuck. I’d need fresh gauze, antiseptic, maybe the suture kit if she’d popped any stitches. How many? Two? Three? The logistics were clear, straightforward, something I could handle without stumbling over my own moon-damned tongue.
“Oh, here we go,” Zane drawled from the floor, halfway under Brumous now. “Watch out, Seri, Cas is about to give you a step-by-step battle plan for treating your injuries.”
The smirk on his face made my jaw tighten, but it wasn’t his teasing that hit me. It was the truth behind it. Iwastreating this, treatingher, like an assignment. It came naturally. That’s what Idid. But Seri wasn’t a mission; she waseverything.
And if she thought I didn’t care about her because I couldn’t figure out how to say or show it, then I was failing her in the worst way possible.
“I mean, it’s, um.”
She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the floor, and I could see the struggle in her expression. She wanted to be strong, to push through, but she was scared. Scared of being vulnerable, scared ofusseeing her vulnerable.
“Aw, I’m sure you’ll survive it, blossom,” Zane waved one hand dismissively. “Just don’t be embarrassed if you notice how hard you make him.”
“Amabel said I was so unattractive, I wouldn’t arouse my husband.”
The words hung between the four of us, fragile and sharp, like a shard of glass balanced on the edge of a table. Her fingers plucked at her sweater hem, knuckles white, as my brothers and I stood in shocked silence.
“I know I’m not the kind of girl a man would want.”
Oxygen fled my lungs. My hands clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my temper in check.
Koa wasn’t so controlled. His punch shattered a wall sconce, making Seri jump. Glass rained down as he stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the furniture.
Zane kipped up in a heartbeat.
“Well, those bitches were full of shit. I get hard just watching you sit in a chair. Fully clothed and everything. I can show you right now if you want.” His hands went to his belt buckle, and her eyebrows flew up, her cheeks cherry red.
“Zane!” I snapped.
“Well, if I can’tshowyou, let me list the ways those harpies are wrong. Your eyes—”
“Are currently bloodshot from sleep deprivation,” I interjected. “Your hair—”
“Curls like shavings of sunshine!” He twirled a tress around his finger.
“—needs conditioning treatment to prevent split ends. And your body—”
“Rivals Aphrodite’s!”
